


Dreamer of Fears

by Shadow_Chaser



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A dark and twisted universe awaits our heroes, Alternate Universe, Canon Pairings in original universe, Dimension Travel, Dreamers and Weavers lore, Gen, Independent Harry Potter, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Pairings don't really matter with the sole exception of the Lily-ones, The Deathly Hallows, Wandless Magic, grey!Harry, magic lore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2007-07-22
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-10 04:06:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 31
Words: 195,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19899562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_Chaser/pseuds/Shadow_Chaser
Summary: In the days following the defeat of Voldemort, Harry and his friends are suddenly whisked away to another world where things aren't as they seem. The Dark Lord is still alive and the world is considerably darker and deadlier. Deemed the savior of this world, Harry must master new powers and rise up to his destiny – however…does he really want to after all that he's been through?Originally posted on ff.net. up to CH28. Cross-posting chapters afterwards.





	1. Prologue - Welcome to Paradiso

Albus Dumbledore was not a humble man. Proud and occasionally vain, he sought the secrets of the unknown, hoping that it would lead him to the most singular truth he has ever known: life beyond death. He used those around him as tools and disposed of them when they were no longer useful. Many did not know this side of the man who wore a continuous smile and had a twinkle in his eye. Only a few knew of his arrogance and power and one of that few was gliding towards his patrolling figure outside of the castle.

“Headmaster…” the ghost whispered in a gentle voice. Even in his undying form, he was dressed in layers of simple clothing, the clothing of someone who didn’t really want to be noticed. How he had come to haunting the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was a mystery, even to the other ghosts. For you see, he was the first to haunt Hogwarts…and thus, the oldest. Even the Bloody Baron and Helena Ravenclaw, more commonly known as The Grey Lady, weren’t comparable in age to this ghost.

“Ah…what can I do for you?” the twinkle was not in Albus’ eye tonight the ghost noticed as he glided alongside the Headmaster.

“I’ve come with a warning tonight,” he whispered quietly, “five will appear as if none had seen them before in this lifetime. You must trust them…”

“But of course,” Albus nodded.

“No,” the ghost whispered firmly, “do not attempt your foolish practices on them. They will not serve you well in the long run…”

“You mean for the defeat of Tom?”

“I mean beyond that which no one can see…”

The Headmaster of the school raised a curious eyebrow, “And pray tell, why must I believe you?”

“Because I bring word from the Weavers, Headmaster…”

If there was one thing that could surprise Albus Dumbledore, the ghost knew that it was this. He watched as the grizzled old wizard’s white eyebrows shot straight into his hairline as both halted.

“Are you sure,” the next words from Albus were so cold and hard that if the ghost had believed in the appearance that the Headmaster gave off, he would have believed the man standing in front of him was a Death Eater who had drank Polyjuice Potion. However, the ghost just nodded.

“Thank you Ignotus, I will heed your warning,” the Headmaster nodded once, slowly before walking away, leaving the ghostly form of Ignotus Perevell floating behind him.

The ghost shook his head before addressing the sky above him, “This isn’t how its supposed to happen!”

* * *

Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, twice, landed on the cold, hard, wet, ground of darkness with a painful thump. He scrambled out of the way just as he sensed four other people falling around him and managed to only get his legs squished under the heavy weight of Neville Longbottom.

“Ow! Get off!” somewhere near his right; Ginny Weasley muttered before drawing her wand and said, “Lumos!”

Harry adjusted his glasses which had become skewed on his nose and looked around the lighted area where Ginny had lit up. It looked oddly…familiar…

“What in bloody hell was that?!” his best friend Ron Weasley said to his right, picking himself up after making sure his girlfriend Hermione was all right…

“I…don’t know,” Harry pulled himself to his feet and stood up, still feeling a bit dizzy.

“Hey…weren’t we just in the school?” Neville asked also lighting his wand, “what are we doing outside?”

“Why is it so dark? I thought the centaurs were still celebrating outside with the giants?” Ginny moved closer to him and he reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it for reassurance.

“If they were I assure you, they wouldn’t be here on the school’s grounds,” a new, yet familiar voice startled all of them and they turned to their left to see someone who should have been quite dead walking into the edge of their lights.

“You should be dead,” Harry said as he drew out his wand, mildly surprised to see that in his hand was the Elder Wand.

“I saw you die by Severus Snape’s hand, Albus Dumbledore…”


	2. Merlin's Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my version of the King Arthur/Merlin myth is based partially on the book the “Crystal Cave” and on the TV movie “Merlin” that played here in the U.S. back in the late nineties.
> 
> Please also excuse the lack of British-isms. I am an American writer who likes playing in the HP universe...

Harry leveled his wand in front of the man he had seen die over a year ago, his grip tight and firm. Behind him he heard the scramble of the others pulling out their wands too, all pointed at the man who looked like Albus Dumbledore. He didn’t know why he also had the Elder Wand, having put it back in Dumbledore’s grave only a couple of days ago.

“What is your favorite jam?” Harry asked, remembering what the former Headmaster had told him between the summer of his fifth and sixth year.

“Raspberry,” there was a faint twinkle of amusement his eyes, “does that satisfy your questioning Mr. Potter?”

“What date is it?” Hermione suddenly asked.

“The fourteenth of June, nineteen-ninety-eight,” Dumbledore replied congenially, not at all fazed by the wands pointed at him.

“It’s the same day we came from…” Neville whispered.

“It is about,” the aging wizard glanced at his pocket watch hidden inside his sleeve, “nine-thirty at night.”

“Wait…it was about five o’clock when we were sitting in the dining hall,” Hermione looked puzzled before falling silent, her brows furrowing in concentration.

“How did four hours pass…?” Ron looked completely confused.

“Do you recognize what’s in my hand, Professor?” Harry asked carefully.

“Why, yes,” from the folds of his pale blue robes, he slowly drew out the same exact wand, “it is my own wand…”

“But-“

Hermione elbowed Ron hard in the ribs to shut him up from spilling the secret of Harry’s wand just in case the person claiming to be Albus Dumbledore wasn’t the Headmaster at all.

“What is the composition of your wand?” Harry asked.

“Hawthorne and dragon-heartstring,” the Headmaster replied.

“You’re lying…isn’t it made out of the wood of an elder tree with a core of a phoenix tail?” Harry had figured out the core of the Elder Wand only a day ago when he realized what had repaired his own holly-phoenix tail wand; only a phoenix-tailed wand could repair another, and especially if the particular wand was the Elder Wand. It was also why red-gold sparks flew out of his wands, mimicking the sign of a phoenix’s rebirth.

There was a barely imperceptible narrowing of Dumbledore’s eyes and the blue in them lost all traces of the twinkle he had. A smile tugged the corners of Harry’s mouth as he knew that he had hit the truth.

“Very perceptive Mr. Potter…I dare say you’ve learned that from somewhere not around here, perhaps?” Dumbledore asked quietly.

“Perhaps,” Harry nodded once, “it still doesn’t prove that you’re who you claim to be.”

“My dear boy, surely you don’t expect to truly believe that I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry with such doubt in your hearts and minds,” Dumbledore put his wand away and spread his hands out, showing that he was unarmed. “All I can offer is my word that I am indeed Albus Dumbledore.

“I can only offer you what I know at the moment. I was told of your arrival from another world and it would be happening tonight, which is why I am on the grounds this late in the evening.”

“Another world?!”

“Wait…that isn’t even possible…is it Hermione?” Harry turned his head slightly to look back at the smartest person he knew on this face of the planet.

“Hermione?” Ginny asked, tugging at the bushy-haired girl’s robes.

“It’s...not possible in the Muggle sense,” Hermione replied slowly, her brows furrowed and her eyes staring at an invisible spot on the ground, “it could quite possibly have occurred as a magical backlash of sorts…but…that wouldn’t make sense…”

“Hermione, what are you talking about?” Harry asked.

“When Voldemort died by his own spell…like we’ve already discovered, he was just a shadow of himself, right? But he still possessed a lot of power. What if…that vacuum of power created some type of rip in the fabric of time and space?”

There was silence in wake of her words before Ron coughed lightly.

“Did you learn that in Muggle Studies way back when?” he asked.

Hermione shook her head, “What do you think I spend my summers doing when I’m not making sure you or Harry aren’t in trouble? My parents do want me to get a Muggle education too so I’ve been doing extra work!”

“Yeah…but…time…and space?”

“I believe what Miss Granger is trying to say that a magical rift was formed with the defeat of Lord Voldemort in your universe. It is like a deep magical wound had been carved into the ‘entity’ so to speak that is magic itself. In that rift, some force pulled you towards this universe,” Dumbledore spoke up quietly, bringing all heads around to face him once more.

Harry noticed that his wand was slightly lowered during the conversation and pointed it straight back at the man who could be the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

“I believe the best answer for this question at the moment is that yes, you are in a different world, or universe. You say that Lord Voldemort was defeated, killed I presume? But alas, he is very much still alive in this world. And in this world, you,” now Dumbledore turned to stare at Harry with his eyes hard as crystals, no twinkle in them, “Harry James Potter, are quite dead.”

* * *

They reluctantly sat in the chairs conjured up by Dumbledore in the hearty glow of his office, still wary of their surroundings. No one had noticed them walking with the Headmaster to his office and Harry supposed that it was probably for the best. If they were indeed in a parallel world to their own, then things may be drastically different, especially since his counter-self was dead.

At least the Headmaster’s office still looked mostly the same as during his sixth year, Fawkes still perched on his stand, preening himself. The sword of Gryffindor, Harry couldn’t decide if it was the real one or fake one, rested on its mantle, unbloodied. And the Sorting Hat was murmuring to itself on its perch high above one of the shelves. The only difference was that there were a few different portraits…some of people he didn’t recognize.

“I doubt you’d be willing to tell me more about your world since you all still look nervous enough to sprint out of this room, so I shall start,” Dumbledore popped a lemon drop into his mouth before tilting the bowl towards them, “lemon drop?”

“No thank you,” Harry murmured shaking his head and the others followed suit. He had stowed away the Elder Wand next to his phoenix one inside his robes. In his one of his robe’s pocket was the Invisibility Cloak and hanging around his neck was the moleskin bag that Hagrid had given to him. He knew the Golden Snitch was still in it and wondered if he had the Elder Wand, was the Resurrection Stone still with him, and why? He had only decided to keep Ignotus’ cloak because he didn’t want the power the other two objects could provide him. Why then, did he have the Elder Wand, and if Dumbledore’s wand as true, which one was the true Elder Wand?

“I believe the diverging point of our realities start on October 31, 1981 when you and your parents were attacked at Godric’s Hollow. Your counterpart in this world died on that day, and your father and mother survived,” Dumbledore said, steepling his fingers together and watching him carefully through the rims of his glasses.

Harry let loose a small gasp of surprise as he felt like he had been sucker punched in the stomach. His parents were alive?! In this world?! But…

“Harry,” Ginny squeezed his hand tightly to reassure him of her presence next to him.

Taking a few deep breaths, he looked up once more into the old wizard’s face and nodded for him to continue.

“I will not ask for details until I have explained myself, but judging from your reaction, James and Lily Potter did not survive did they?” Dumbledore asked.

“Yes,” Harry was mildly surprise to find his voice hoarse and cleared his throat before speaking again, “my mother protected me and took a Killing Curse from Voldemort. Her love is what repelled the Killing Curse he used on me, giving me this scar.” He reached up and showed the Headmaster his lighting bolt scar.

“A deep and ancient magic…” Dumbledore murmured quietly to himself before clearing his throat once more, “as I was saying. To this day, the Dark Lord terrorizes the British Isles. He has taken over the Ministry of Magic and has installed Lucius Malfoy as his puppet Minister. Hogwarts is one of the few safest havens we have left only because it is protected by the Ancient Magic of the Founders of Hogwarts. Lord Voldemort can penetrate its defenses, but so far, it has been oddly curious that he has not launched an all-out attack on the school.”

“But if the Ministry has been taken over, are there still students here?” Hermione asked.

“Yes of course,” the Headmaster nodded, “those who survived his Ministry purge have set up Hogwarts and Hogsmeade as a new Ministry and while I am the Headmaster of this school, I am also Minister of Magic.”

In that instant, Harry recognized some of the portraits hanging in the Headmaster’s office…some of them had been in the various ministry offices and especially a couple he had seen in Dolores Umbridge’s office.

“We have continuously sent out letters to students both Muggle-born and not to come to Hogwarts every year. The Hogwarts Express is protected by the Aurors loyal to me stationed here at the school. I dare say that Lord Voldemort has not attacked the school because he has spies within the school to try to influence some of the students who are of…purer…blood to assassinate the Muggle-born and Half-blood students here,” Dumbledore frowned a bit before he pointed his wand at his head and pulled out a silvery liquid of thought and let it float down into his Pensieve hidden in a corner of his desk.

Harry found it a bit disconcerting to hear such words come out of the Headmaster’s mouth, but attributed to the fact that this was a far different Headmaster than they knew. Apparently a lot more ruthless, and even Minister of Magic who didn’t seem to mind taking the reigns of power and using it.

“Professor,” Hermione started again, “it doesn’t really explain how you knew we would be here? Why trust us with this information?”

“You really are the brightest witch of your generation,” Dumbledore smiled slightly, “and to answer your question Miss Granger, it is because I believe and my informant believes that you five are the last hope we have in defeating Lord Voldemort.”

“But…what can we do? We just came off of our own war with Voldemort,” Ron spoke up, “I mean suddenly we end up here and you expect us to fight for you?!”

Even though Ron was his best friend, there were times that Harry was surprised by his words. He realized that it truly echoed the hardships that they all have been through for the past seven years of their lives. While Ron had run away, only to return to help fight, he and Harry himself, were quite tired of battling Voldemort. When he had been defeated in the Great Hall, it was as if sixteen years of pressure had suddenly released Harry, Ron, and Hermione from their grips.

There was a moment of silence as Dumbledore stared at all of them with his crystal blue eyes, as if analyzing them. He gave a soft sigh before nodding, “Very well then. I will do all that is in my power to help the five of you return to your universe. I will not pressure you to join our cause as I believe that you all have fought a very hard battle against Lord Voldemort. But for the moment, if word gets out that all of you are yourselves, then there will be chaos within the school, especially you Mr. Potter.”

“So we take on different names then?” Ginny asked.

“Yes,” Dumbledore nodded before pointing his wand towards one of his many bookshelves and a book came flying towards him, landing on his desk with a gentle thump.

“Is that…” Hermione leaned over her seat to get a better look at the book.

“The only edition of the histories before the founding of Hogwarts,” a light twinkle was back in Dumbledore’s eyes, “you have heard of this book Miss Granger?”

“Yes!” Hermione looked excited, “it’s the rarest book ever! No one knows who wrote it and textual parts of it are in _A History of Magic_ , which makes me think that its probably written by a few people instead of just one-“

“In fact, you are quite correct Miss Granger. This book was written by a group who called themselves the Weavers,” he flipped open the ancient tome and turned a few pages before nodding, “ah…here we go. You will all have to use different personas while you stay here for the time being so…Mr. Longbottom, you will be known to the students, staff, and others of the Ministry as Nathan Hufflepuff, Helga Hufflepuff’s younger brother.”

“But, in _Hogwarts, A History_ , Helga never had a younger brother,” Hermione spoke up.

“You are quite correct,” the Headmaster nodded, “Helga Hufflepuff who was one of the four founders of Hogwarts never had a younger brother. None of the founders had siblings. But magic has subtle nuances that no one could understand. The Helga Hufflepuff that founded Hogwarts was a reincarnation of this Helga Hufflepuff, who indeed did have a younger brother named Nathan. Helga’s brother was one of the Knights in service to Merlin.”

“But I thought King Arthur had the Knights of the Round Table,” Harry was confused. He remembered the stories that he had learned back when he was a child.

“Yes, the Muggle Arthur did have his own knights, all with the exception of a few to be purely Muggle, but Merlin had his own knights long before Arthur created the Round Table. You see, the Knights are like Aurors today, except with a different name.”

“So I will be Nathan Hufflepuff? But I don’t even know that much about Merlin and-“

“All will make sense in a bit, Mr. Long- pardon, Mr. Hufflepuff,” Dumbledore smiled before setting his gaze on Hermione, “You, Miss Granger, will be Rowena Ravenclaw.”

“Another one of Merlin’s Knights or the Hogwarts founder?” Hermione asked.

“Actually before her reincarnation, she was one of Merlin’s greatest advisors,” the Headmaster smiled congenially before lifting the old tome up and showing them two sketch drawings of Nathan and Rowena. Harry realized that they looked very similar to Neville and Hermione respectively. “I think choosing people from the past who best fit your profiles will be beneficial to our advantage in case anyone asks.

“Now…Mr. Weasley,” Dumbledore set the book back down and flipped a few pages before nodding his head absently, “ah…I think it would be better if we gave you the name of Godric Gryffindor II while you are here.”

“The second?!” Ron blinked in surprise.

“Yes…as I said, this is before Gryffindor reincarnated. He was also one of Merlin’s Knights and coincidentally, Merlin’s older brother,” the Headmaster replied.

“But I thought Merlin was borne from the fruits of magic itself,” Ginny spoke up, puzzled, “and that he had no father and his mother was only to carry him to full-term before she died in childbirth. He was supposed to be raised by Ambrose and taught the magical arts by Queen Mab of the Fairies who later became one of his nemeses along with Nimue, Lady of the Lake.”

The others stared at her before she blushed and stared down at the floor, finding a crack along the floor very interesting. Harry was surprised that Ginny knew so much about the King Arthur and Merlin mythos and part of him loved her even more for the surprises she always had in store.

“Yes, you are quite right, Miss Weasley…” Dumbledore’s face crinkled up in a wide smile, “however, that is the history those who wrote it want you to see. The history on the Chocolate Frog Cards and in many of the textbooks we have here at Hogwarts. This book, along with a few others in the Restricted Section of the library contain the truth behind Merlin’s origins and his battle with Queen Mab of the Fairies.

“It is also why; I believe you are most suited for the role of Selwyn, the High Elf; Merlin’s right hand. She is never mentioned in any of the history books save for the few I told you about, and it is for good reason. It is said that after Merlin’s defeat of Queen Mab and her wicked sister Nimue of the Lake, the High Elves of the world departed the rocky shores of the British Isles and were never seen again.

“It is also then that their distant kin, the House Elves were enslaved to be forever subservient to their Masters today,” the Headmaster gave a pointed look to Hermione whose brows were knitted in anger.

“That’s ridiculous,” Hermione muttered quietly to herself before Ron laid a calming hand on her shoulder as she fidgeted around.

“So what’s Harry?” Neville asked into the silence.

“Why Nathan, I’d thought you’d be able to figure out by now who I am setting Mr. Potter here to be,” Dumbledore laced his fingers together.

“Merlin, right?” Harry asked wearily, not liking this at all.

“You are quite correct, Mr. Potter,” the Headmaster replied before propping the tome back up and showing them the three pictures of Selwyn, Godric II, and Merlin, all of them resembling their counterparts, “and I hope you do forgive me for putting you as a one of the most famous wizards of all history, but based on my observations of you in the past two hours since we’ve met, you are the leader of this group so it is natural for you to assume leadership of the group of Merlin’s closest advisors and Knights.”

Harry was quiet as he stared at the picture of an apparently young-looking Merlin his thoughts swirling about him. Being Merlin did have certain advantages and disadvantages…for one thing, if word got out that he was “Merlin” then he would get a wash of fame, but it could fool Voldemort in this world and make him pause. His presence as “Merlin” could scare the Death Eaters into surrendering instead of fighting every time Aurors were there…

He looked up into Dumbledore’s face and decided that maybe, just maybe, he would trust this world’s Dumbledore. After all, how much different could one world be from another? This world’s Headmaster seemed all right, if a bit power-hungry, but he also seemed to care for those within Hogwarts. And perhaps, the Headmaster cum Minister of Magic did mean to find them a way home as soon as possible.

So for now, he would respect the Headmaster’s wishes to provide them with cover names and biographies so they may be safe.

“All right… I’ll be Merlin…”

* * *

Another hour and half later, they were all sitting in what looked like a recreation of one of the dorm rooms of Gryffindor Tower, but in actuality was the Room of Requirement completely redone to Neville’s imagination and fine tune control over the room. Whether it was by Dumbledore’s orders for the hall to be cleared between his office and the Room of Requirement, but they didn’t pass a single student or ghost in their quick trip to the Room.

Dumbledore had explained to them that since Hogwarts was the last fortress of light still left standing, there were Aurors always patrolling the perimeter and the school operated like a smaller condensed version of the Ministry of Magic. He also warned that they were not to set foot outside of the Room before they were introduced to the people that needed to know. He told them that the House Elves would bring them their food three times a day and they can order whatever they wanted.

They had also found out that the school year was still in session, unlike back in their own universe when school ended late in May, early June. Apparently there were a lot more random attacks on Hogwarts and Hogsmeade that forced the cancellation of classes this year than the previous year so the school year was extended all the way until the beginning of July.

They also learned that while a majority of the students went home on the Hogwarts Express to their families (albeit heavily guarded by Aurors), a few, especially some of the Muggle-born, stayed in the school during the holidays. Harry briefly wondered if his parents stayed in the school during the holidays or did they live in Godric’s Hollow. It was also then that he realized he didn’t know what his parents did for a living.

“You think Mom and Dad are still alive?” Ron asked as they sat in the couches with a fire burning in the fireplace.

“Probably…Professor Dumbledore didn’t say anything about the rest of us, so I’m thinking that they’re alive,” Ginny replied, leaning against Harry’s shoulder, staring into the fire. Harry had put an arm around her and summoned a blanket to cover them so that they would be comfortable.

“Do you think…Fred-“ Ron abruptly stopped as he took a deep breath and looked elsewhere, but Harry caught a glimpse of tears in the corner of his best friend’s eyes. The day before they had ended up here they had buried Fred back at the Burrow before returning to Hogwarts. George hadn’t said a word during the funeral and only made a brief gesture to his twin by placing his hand over Fred’s heart before placing the same hand on his own – a symbol of the special connection that twins usually have that had been broken so violently.

Harry hugged Ginny closer as he felt her shudder slightly. He had also been wondering if those that had died during the Battle for Hogwarts were still alive…Lupin and Tonks…even little Colin Creevey.

“We should focus on getting back home,” Hermione suddenly spoke up, having taken Ron’s hands into her own and was rubbing them absently. While he had noticed that his two friends were still new in their relationship with each other, both were still awkward towards each other, as indicated by the fact that they didn’t sit too close to together like him and Ginny.

“Do you think what Professor Dumbledore said was true? That due to V-Voldemort’s death there was a magical backlash that ripped open a fabric of time and space?” Neville asked from his chair, alternately staring into the fire and at them.

“It’s only a theory Muggles have that they like to put into television shows and movies, but since the magical world operates on a different level, there could be signs there that we don’t even know about,” Hermione’s brows furrowed slightly, “maybe I can ask Professor Dumbledore tomorrow if he’ll let me go into the Restricted Section of the library so I can take a look.”

“If you do,” with his free hand, Harry reached into his robes and pulled out his father’s Invisibility Cloak, putting the pile of soft material on top of the blanket covering him and Ginny so that the blanket suddenly looked like it had a gaping hole in it, “take the Invisibility Cloak.”

“I thought you left that in your trunk,” Ron said before he tilted his head, “and you had the Elder Wand with you too, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, as he took the Cloak and placed it back in his robes, “but so did Dumbledore which is odd…”

“What about…” Hermione asked in a hushed whisper that barely carried over the crackling fireplace.

Harry took his arm out from holding Ginny and rummaged through the moleskin bag that was hanging around his neck inside his robes. He drew out the Golden Snitch and stared at it. Even before he knew the Resurrection Stone was inside of the Snitch, the thing still felt as heavy as it had before it even had the Stone in it. He wondered if the Stone was inside of the Snitch or was it still lying on the Forbidden Forest’s floor, lost to the ages once more.

“Harry, why do you have the Snitch?” Ginny asked, shifting against him.

The stoic look he wore on his face told both Ron and Hermione the whole story – even though he had revealed to Ginny and Neville most of what had happened to him during the Battle for Hogwarts and their search for Voldemort’s Horcruxes, he had never revealed anything about the Resurrection Stone.

“It’s nothing,” he curled his hand around the Snitch and placed it back into his bag shaking his head.

“Harry…” Ginny’s voice had taken on a quality similar to her mother when she sensed that someone was definitely lying.

“I’ll tell you some other time, okay?” Harry said, hoping that his girlfriend understood and sighed in relief as she nodded reluctantly, understanding that it was probably something very personal. Instead, he turned and jutted his chin at Neville who was now buried in the book that Dumbledore had shown them the pictures of their altered personas in this world. “What else does that book say Neville?”

The Headmaster had given them the book advising that they should probably read up on the true histories of Merlin and his trusted friends just in case someone stopped them in the hall or if they were discovered by accident. Unsurprisingly, Hermione had taken the book and was the first one to browse through it, her eyebrows occasionally rising in surprise and folding in anger as she read through parts of the book. She didn’t say anything except to wordlessly hand the book to Neville who was now slowly flipping through the pages.

“It’s…interesting,” Neville said slowly, glancing up at them, “and it’s most certainly not what I’ve read in the history books my Gran has at home, though there are parts of this book that I’ve read before.”

Just to make sure that the Headmaster wasn’t pulling the wool over their eyes as Harry still felt some suspicion, he had Hermione cast a charm on the book to make sure that indeed it was the true book that had come all the way back from the Dark Ages.

“The book definitely tells of a lot of what’s happened…” Neville flipped to another page, “and it keeps mentioning something about Dreamers.”

“Dreamers?” Ron asked.

“I’ve heard of them,” Ginny tilted her head, letting her long red hair cascade down the side, almost blending in with the dull red of the couch she and Harry were sitting on. “But it’s like a myth of sorts…”

“Wait,” Hermione reached into her own bag that she had been carrying with her when they landed in this world and pulled out the rough-bound copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ , “there’s a children’s story in here regarding something about Dreamers.” She flipped to nearly the back of the book her fingers and eyes scanning the pages before she thumped it slightly. “There! _There was once a Council of thirteen who always disagreed with each other. They disagreed about how hot the weather was, how cold the weather was, how the crops were doing, and just about everything that was in due time._ ”

“I remember this…Mum used to tell us that all seven of us were like the Dreamers, always disagreeing with each other-“

“Anyhow,” Hermione continued a bit loudly, looking pointedly at Ron who shrugged and shut up, “ _One day their bickering got on the nerves of the youngest Dreamer who was considered a child even though she was the same age as all of them. She stood up and demanded that they all go into their corners to think about what they were fighting about. The force of her words shocked the others into doing exactly as she asked and she broke them apart. Peace and quiet finally rang in the house that they all lived in and the little Dreamer girl was able to continue her chores quietly_ -“

“We said that was probably Ginny or Mum who did that shouting-“

“ _But not for long as some of the other Dreamers began to resent what the littlest of them did and they plotted. The littlest Dreamer was warned by some of the other Dreamers who realized that they had been fighting pointlessly, but she did worry and said that they all needed some time for peace and quiet_ ,” Hermione continued, “ _However, the littlest Dreamer did not prepare for what was coming next. Seven of the Dreamers rose up against what she had done to them and walked out, announcing that they would continue this fight._

“ _This frightened the littlest Dreamer and she sought the protection of the others who were completely shocked at what had just happened. Together, the six remaining Dreamers vowed that they would bring their brothers and sisters back into their fold as they did not want to quarrel with them anymore, but mend the peace._ ”

Hermione closed the book and stared at the others her eyes expectant. Harry blinked, confused.

“Just how old is that book?” Ron asked into the silence.

“It doesn’t matter how old the book is, but don’t you get it?” Hermione shook her head, “if what Neville’s reading in the book means the Dreamers, that means some of Merlin’s lieutenants were the actual Dreamers. And there’s supposed to be thirteen of them!”

“So?” Harry asked, still very confused.

“Harry,” Ginny’s brows were furrowed in concentration, “its part of the Arthurian legend, but the Dreamers were supposedly powerful beings that influenced a lot of the war between Queen Mab and Merlin. They’re only hinted at and rumored in many history books, but every time a major catastrophe or event happens, people usually whisper about the Dreamers…”

“So how come when Voldemort was on the rise or when I beat him just last week, I didn’t hear anything about it?” Harry asked.

“Because right now, they’re only considered to be a bunch of nonsense; and only people like Luna’s dad or even _The Quibbler_ publishes nonsense like that,” Ginny replied, “Luna handed me the latest copy of _The Quibbler_ a couple of days ago.”

“Does it have any useful information about the Dreamers?” Neville suddenly spoke up, looking up from the reading the old tome.

“I don’t really know, but you can look, “Ginny dug around her bag at the foot of the couch before tossing Neville a slightly battered copy of the magazine, “why?”

“Because, according to what I’ve just read…Nathan Hufflepuff was a Dreamer,” he said, looking a bit sheepish.


	3. Discovering Differences

“What about Rowena Ravenclaw?” Ron asked into the silence, “is she also a Dreamer?”

“I don’t know,” Neville replied, flipping through a few pages before running his finger over the text, “it doesn’t say…”

“Well, if Nathan was one, then it would explain why Merlin was eventually able to defeat Queen Mab,” Hermione looked thoughtful, “I’ll see if I can sneak into the library and get some extra reading materials.”

Harry hid a grin behind his hand as he quickly glanced at Ron who looked pained at the thought. For extra reading materials, it meant large, thick, heavy books…and usually either one of them to carry part of the burden.

“What I don’t get, is why wouldn’t Professor Dumbledore tell us that Nathan Hufflepuff is a Dreamer? They do have special powers, but if we were introduced to everyone, would it mean Neville would have to perform some feat explaining a Dreamer?”

“How do you put that together?” Neville looked a bit ill at the prospect of casting any spells in front of people. Even though Harry had seen him fight and cast spells with an incredible ability, he also knew that Neville was shy when it came to showing others what he was able to do.

“I get it,” Hermione nodded, agreeing with Ginny, “remember what Dumbledore said a few hours ago? He said that I was the brightest witch in my generation-“

“You don’t have to sound so smug about it,” Ron interjected before receiving a light smack on his arm.

“Ron, this Dumbledore doesn’t know me. But he does know the other me who is obviously at Hogwarts and apparently is similar to me,” she continued, “which means, the other me could end up figuring that Neville’s Nathan Hufflepuff persona is a Dreamer and then we would have problems.”

“Because if she is similar to you,” Harry finally understood what she was getting at, “then she’d be asking others questions and we would have to either explain everything or demonstrate some use of extraordinary powers.” He ran a free hand through his hair, “I shouldn’t have agreed to this…”

“Harry, we had no choice,” Hermione shook her head, “either way, it would be impossible to explain who you are in this reality.”

“My head hurts,” Ron grimaced slightly, “I’m still having trouble getting used to the fact that we’re in an alternate reality. And shouldn’t we find a way home instead of figuring out this whole Merlin thing?”

“Ron, I’m going to need time to figure out how we can get back home,” Hermione stared at her boyfriend with a hard gaze before abruptly getting up and headed away from the fireplace. A faint slurping sound came from the far corner of the Room of Requirement as Hermione summoned a four-poster bed for herself before crawling in and pulling the covers of her head, clearly angry at Ron.

“What did I say?” Ron looked at them clueless and Harry shook his head. While he didn’t get girls a majority of the time, he did understand what his best friend had said to Hermione.

“Harry?” Ginny spoke as she gently extracted herself from his embrace, “I’m gonna sleep too. It’s been a long day.”

Harry nodded before Ginny got up and walked over to the corner where Hermione’s bed occupied. Another soft slurping sound occurred before yet another four-poster bed popped into existence next to Hermione’s.

“I should probably get to sleep too,” Neville stood up before offering him and Ron the thick tome, “are you guys staying up?”

“Nah,” Ron glared at nothing in particular, still puzzled at how he had angered Hermione.

“I’ll stay up a little longer. Maybe read up on Merlin,” Harry took the offered tome before watching his best friend and Neville head over to the opposite corner, and three beds popped in to existence moments later. He was grateful that Neville thought of a bed up for him so that if he was really tired afterwards, he wouldn’t have to think of one.

He flipped open to the pages regarding Merlin and his lieutenants and stared at the picture of a young looking Merlin. He had to admit, the young wizard did look a lot like him. He faintly wondered if Dumbledore had charmed the book to make it look like they were related and thus had to take on the mantle of being one of the most storied and powerful wizard in history. He drew out his wand and tapped the book, checking for any spell and found that there was in fact, nothing to suggest that the book had been magically altered.

Shrugging, he pocketed his wand once more and started to read. As his eyes scanned the words and he absorbed what was being written in the book, he had to admit once more that the history books did not detail too much about Merlin and his exploits, with the exception of what had read in Muggle books and from the various history books Hermione foisted upon them during their years at Hogwarts. Camelot and Merlin's role in King Arthur's ascension was featured heavily in all of the history, calling it one the greatest accomplishments to date.

But this book, it detailed the numerous alliances Merlin made with the magical creatures of the world, some of them whom the Ministry had taken no notice or had persecuted. The book detailed the moods of Merlin and said that while he was a calm spirit, rational and observant; he was also prone to being hot-headed when his emotions got the best of him. In his later life, he was not surrounded by friends, but rather had been lonely, living out his days trapped behind a cursed rock by Nimue who had gone to terrorize the world and drive many of the creatures that had formed alliances with into despair and darkness.

The book did not speculate how Merlin died, but it hypothesized that he had died alone, penniless, and without friends.

Harry shuddered slightly at the last words. He hoped that he would never suffer the same fate as Merlin, hoped that he would be surrounded by his children, by his friends when he finally passed on...

He flipped to the next page that featured Selwyn the High Elf, the character that Ginny was supposed to take on and began to read. Pretty soon, as he was in the middle of reading about Rowena Ravenclaw when the words in the book began to blur and he blinked his eyes rapidly to try to keep them awake. It was such a fascinating read, more history about the mysterious Merlin and his lieutenants, but also knew that he had to get some sleep.

Finally his eyes couldn't take anymore and made known their protest by having his lids scrape across his eyes and he stifled a yawn. Stretching slightly he folded the corner of the page he was on and set the book down on his chair as he stumbled towards the four poster bed that had been prepared by Neville for him. Crawling under the covers, he was asleep even before his head hit the pillows.

And that's when the dreams came to him.

* * *

_The wind howled through the darkened landscape of Northern England near the borders of the Saxons and the raiding army of Uther Pendrag were restless. Horses pawed at the ground, restless for a battle to be held. The bowmen with their arrows shook as they tried to suppress the shivers of the biting winter cold of England._

“ _Only a little more men,” Uther spoke, his deep bass voice was full of humor and less care. He knew what was at stake, but he didn’t care. No, all he wanted was the crown…and if his men died trying to give it to him, so be it. After all, he had wizards on his side. “Merlin, do tell me, is Vortigen going to be coming any time soon?” he tilted his head slightly to a youngish looking person on top of a dapple-grey horse._

_The person sitting next to Uther wasn’t what you expect of the famous wizard Merlin. In fact, he looked more like an ordinary soldier or commoner. No robes, no pointed hat, nothing to show that he was a wizard. Not even a wand since they didn’t use wands back then and could control their magicks by hand and thought. He was wearing a mottled assortment of dark feathers over a fur coat, keeping him warm, and on top of his head was a head-fitting helmet. This was the legendary Merlin, only in his mid forties and by now, one of the most feared wizards._

_Merlin shook his head, “Patience Uther._ Do not meddle in the affairs of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger. _Vortigen will come…and you will win.”_

“ _Good, good,” Uther rubbed his hand gleefully, a broad smile appearing on his thin pale face._

“ _Sir! Messenger!” one of the men in the field called out and Merlin looked to see someone riding on a black horse, a particular horse he was very, very familiar with. A horse whose breath enticed steam and had blood-red eyes. The rider was someone also familiar and Merlin felt a hitch in his stomach. Of all the times…he should have expected her to come and meddle…come and save Vortigen…_

“ _I bring you a message from King Vortigen,” her raspy voice was harsh and some of the men closest to her covered their ears against her grating voice._

_Merlin frowned staring at the willowy raven-haired form of Queen Mab, Queen of the Faeries. She wore a loose flowing dress, but one that shimmered a grey-silver. Her hands were artfully decorated with gemstones and her eyes covered with deep colors of black and grey that made her bright green eyes stand out against the contrasting paleness of her face._

“ _Don’t keep us waiting Mab,” Merlin replied, bringing the Mab’s eyes on him. The sorceress only stared at him with what he deemed a malevolent stare but he shrugged in reply. If she wanted a duel with him at the moment, he would just take her on. Of course that meant that Uther would be free to charge at Vortigen while Mab was distracted._

“ _The King wishes that you reconsider your objective and sign and oath of allegiance,” Mab spoke, one hand waving in the air and a tendril of bluish smoke wisped into a parchment with a blue quill._

_Uther laughed harshly and Merlin stared at the man with a raised eyebrow. He hoped that he had chosen a good king to rule over England, but now…he wasn’t too sure at the moment. It seemed like Uther didn’t really care for his people, but at least was marginally better than Vortigen who was currently on the throne._

“ _Me? Reconsider?” Uther laughed again, “my dear Queen of the Faeries…please tell you pet Vortigen that I…Uther Pendrag, rightful heir of the throne, will fight him to the bloody death!”_

“ _Is that your final wish?” Mab narrowed her green eyes into slits._

“ _Go now…shoo,” Uther waved a careless hand and Mab nodded once._

“ _So be it, Uther. Your reign shall start in blood and will end in blood. You will eventually go insane and you will fall on your own sword in battle,” Mab turned, the parchment and quill vanish with a poof but suddenly turned and once again fixed Merlin with her green eyes._

“ _Be warned Merlin. We the Seven Sins of Mortals will triumph. This is only the beginning,” Mab hissed at him then suddenly heeled her horse and it charged away._

“ _Quite lovely, isn’t she Merlin?” Uther smiled in an odd way and Merlin stared at the future king._

“ _Yes,” he agreed sarcastically, “quite the basilisk.” He suddenly turned his horse, and waved a hand in Uther’s face, making the man snap out of whatever stupor he was in, “I will be leaving you now. This is your battle that I cannot interfere.”_

“ _Oh…” Uther replied then turned to his second-in-command who had tapped his shoulder._

_Merlin heeled his horse and did not look back to see the preparations of the upcoming battle. He already knew what the outcome was, as Mab was the decider of this battle. There would be another time for him to confront her, to stop her. Now, the Weavers Council expected a report and he was going to give it to them. “Rupert, take us home.”_

_His horse neighed and started a gallop, taking Merlin away from the battlefield and to the Elvesgrove Hollow…_

* * *

Harry awoke with his eyes snapping open, the chill of the cool autumn weather still upon his shoulders and he blinked a few times before reality settled back into him, driving away the remnants of the dream. He could still smell the autumn air, the sweat of the horses and men that had been marching for over a day. He could still see the sickly, perverse smile of Uther Pendrag and resisted the urge for bile to form in his mouth and grimaced slightly.

“G'morning Harry,” Ron's sleep yawn made him look beyond his immediate thoughts to see Ron facing him with a sleepy look from his four-poster bed before facing the ceiling and stretched underneath his covers.

“Morning,” Harry reached over and grabbed his glasses that he had put on the nightstand next to the bed and put them on before sitting up in bed. He noticed that he was wearing pajamas and vaguely wondered when he changed from his clothes into pajamas during the night since he was tired from reading.

“I fine tuned the room while I was sleeping,” Neville called out to him from across the room and he looked up to see him and Ginny sitting at a small table, eating food. “It'll see to your every need, except for food. Some of the House Elves popped in this morning with food.”

Harry blinked in surprise. House elves knew how to get into the Room of Requirements? He then realized the simpler answer; it was because House Elf magic was different than wizard magic. He then wondered if Dobby...no in this reality, he never had the chance to free Dobby from Lucius Malfoy's control because the Slytherin...

His eyes shot wide open as he realized something. If he didn't have the chance to free Dobby then there was a chance that the basilisk, Slytherin's monster, was still in the Chamber of Secrets.

“Harry?” Ginny looked at him with worry, mid-bite from putting more eggs in her mouth and he shook his head.

“It's nothing,” he lied. He would never, ever put Ginny through anything like the Chamber in his lifetime, not even in this alternate world. It would bring up too many bad memories for both of them. He knew he would have to sneak out to see if the Chamber still existed when his brain ran into another barrier. If his ability as a Parselmouth was related to Voldemort and Voldemort had essentially killed that part of him because he was a Horcrux then perhaps he couldn't get back into the Chamber of Secrets...

He knew that he would have to ask the headmaster about the Chamber, to see if anything had happened. If not, then perhaps the Aurors at the school would be able to kill the basilisk. Another thought occurred to him, did the Voldemort of this world create Horcruxes or was his soul completely whole?

He decided to leave his thoughts alone for now as he got out of bed and shuffled to the table and sat down next to Ginny. Helping himself to a few sausages, toast, and eggs, he poured some orange juice and dug into the hearty meal. Ron joined a few minutes later and Harry glanced at Hermione's bed to see that she wasn't in it.

“Morning...” Ron yawned widely before piling food on top of his plate, “where's 'Mione?”

“She said she was going to go to the Restricted Section of the library to get some more books,” Neville shrugged and Harry noted that his cloak was gone from the chairs by the fireplace.

“I hate reading,” Ron grumbled before stuffing two pieces of sausages into his mouth and chewed.

“Don't let her hear you say that,” Harry muttered before the door opened and all of them turned, wands half drawn out before the door closed again and the invisibility cloak was thrown off by Hermione who tossed it in a spare chair. In her other arms was a stack of books and Harry heard Ron gave a low groan of annoyance.

He pocketed his wand once more by his pajama pants and turned back to eating as Hermione approached them and dumped the books onto the edge of the table with a loud thump.

“That's a lot of materials for a light read,” even Ginny sounded a bit anxious and Harry gave her a crooked smile.

“Well I was hoping you would all help me with it,” Hermione looked at them hopefully and Harry dug deeper into the remnants of his breakfast, suddenly finding his dwindling scrambled eggs much more fascinating.

“I was thinking of looking around today,” he quickly muttered before anyone else had the chance to.

“Yeah, me too,” Ginny piped up next to him.

“Me three,” Ron said before earning a glare from Hermione, “no...I take it?”

“There is no way the three of you could fit under the cloak without revealing yourself and plus it would be slow going if you did so,” she crossed her arms at him and he nodded meekly.

“All right, I'll stay and read,” Ron looked deflated.

“Neville-”

“I was going to finish up the book Dumbledore gave us,” Neville quickly smiled before looking elsewhere and Harry caught the glare Ron sent Neville's way for worming his way out of reading duty with Hermione.

“Fine then,” Hermione snipped before taking one of the books from the pile and flounced off to the couch to read.

The four of them shared a cautious look with each other before glancing back at Hermione, glad that they didn't face more of her wrath than what was necessary.

* * *

It was little over an hour later when Harry had finished his breakfast, quickly washed up and changed in the adjoining bathroom Neville had conjured up, one for the girls, the other for the guys, changed back into his clothes and waited for Ginny to finish her morning preparations before she joined him under the invisibility cloak and they headed out of the Room of Requirement and into the eerily quiet halls of Hogwarts.

“It's in the middle of class,” Ginny murmured as he glanced at his watch and noted that indeed it was in the middle of morning classes.

“Let's go down to the Great Hall,” he suggested and they started off. They only got to about the end of the hall when voices coming from the opposite side made them slide against the wall, pressing themselves against it as a group of fierce looking Aurors swept past them and headed down the hall.

Harry felt his breath catch in his throat as one of the Aurors stopped and glanced at where they were, her icy blue eyes squinting as if she was trying to see them, and stared at them for a few seconds before shrugging and continuing on her way, jogging a bit to catch up to her group.

“That was close,” Ginny had grabbed onto his arm and released it as they peered at the group. “Did you see who lead them?”

“No,” he was more concerned about the female Auror that had almost spotted them. No one, save for Mad-Eye Moody could see a person in the invisibility cloak.

“Barty Crouch Jr.,” Ginny whispered and little flashes of his fourth year passed in his mind as he remembered the man that had impersonated Mad-Eye Moody and had ultimately set the trap that had sent him to Voldemort.

“What?!” he hissed angrily.

“I know!” she replied, “We should see Dumbledore...”

“Come on,” he grabbed her hand and they hurried towards the headmaster's office. Did Dumbledore know that Crouch Jr. was a Death Eater?

* * *

“What's up Sadow?” the silky, smooth voice of Emmeline Daigger interrupted the owner of the icy blue eyes that had been staring at the spot where Harry and Ginny were hiding. She glanced at the blonde-haired Auror that walked beside her.

“Nothing, just....” she rubbed her chin as a few strands of her long black hair fell to her face and absently tucked them behind her ears once more. Marion Sadow thought she had seen someone or somebody hiding along the wall, under an invisibility spell of sorts. She had seen the telltale distortion, something not noticeable by many, but she had the uncanny ability to pick up on such things.

She had thought that it was her imagination and still doubted a part of her, she wanted to investigate it. But that would have meant stopping the whole patrol group and by then, anyone invisible would have moved swiftly away and her sight wasn't that good enough to pick up the distortion again if it was moving. She wondered…could it have been the mysterious guests Dumbledore had called the Inner Circle of the Order about late last night?

She had been awakened from her sleep by a request from Dumbledore for the Inner Circle to gather to discuss the most urgent of businesses. Marion had thought that somewhere like Diagon Alley or even downtown London had been attacked, but the Headmaster had just wanted to let them know of five people who had arrived during the night to help them in the war.

He had not said anything else about their five mysterious guests, but news of their power had given some in the Inner Circle hope. Marion herself was a bit skeptical, something she had picked up from both Moody and from her boss, but even she allowed herself some sliver of hope in light of recent events in the war. If there was anything they could use, anything that could help them in the war against the Dark Lord and his minions, then knew the Headmaster would not hesitate.

“Something got past the wards?” Emmeline’s hand immediately went to where she stashed her wand and Marion resisted the urge to roll her eyes. The woman could have such an itchy wand hand at times.

“No,” if indeed one of the mysterious guests was hiding behind an invisibility spell of sorts, then she would leave them alone for now. She did not need jumpy Aurors attacking everything on sight. “The suit of armor reminded me of something I needed to ask my brother.”

“Marius? What’s he got to do with this?” Emmeline looked confused.

“You forget the Founders’ Ball is two weeks away. I need to make sure he has the family crest ready,” Marion lied, knowing that it would distract the Auror easily. Emmeline loved anything to do with the images of riches and power, but she also had a good heart to never join the Dark Lord's cause even though he promised riches and power to anyone who was willing to serve him.

“I'm still jealous that you get to go every year,” she gave a soft sigh so not to attract the attention Crouch who was leading this patrol group.

“I would bring you, but you remember the scandal that occurred to the Prewett family years ago, right?” Marion replied.

“I know...an invitee must bring their spouse, family member, future spouse, or another member of the Founders. Any other and it would be perceived as an infringement upon the purity of the Founders and its traditions,” Emmeline rolled her eyes and laughed lightly, “So who are you going to take this year?”

“Emmeline!” Marion stared at her, “how old are you?”

“A sixth-year,” she replied sarcastically.

Marion just shook her head and hastened her pace a bit not even deigning her response with an answer. She heard a shuffle of robes before the other Auror caught up with her and poked her arm playfully.

“Come on...lighten up,” Emmeline murmured, “you've been too tense lately.”

“It's because we're fighting a war here,” she shot back, still a bit angry.

“Marion, dear, we've been fighting this war for our whole life. It wouldn't hurt to lighten up once in a while, you know,” their patrol was now headed back to the Great Hall where they would either retire to their quarters or head to their posts for the day relieving the Aurors who were on third-shift.

“If only,” they entered the Great Hall where some of the students were still eating breakfast before heading to classes and while some of the students had stared at them entering the Great Hall, most of them ignored them, having gotten completely used to Aurors entering and leaving the Great Hall at odd hours in all of their years here. It had been ten years since the Ministry was driven out of London and nine years since it had reformed under Albus Dumbledore's guidance. The Ministry was home in Hogwarts as much as the students were.

Her eyes instinctively scanned the Great Hall for any signs of trouble and immediately a frown appeared on her face at the person she wanted to see the least sitting at the teacher's table eating breakfast.

“Oh...I thought she would be already preparing for her Muggle Studies class,” Emmeline had also noticed where her gaze landed and the two of them stared at the flaming red-headed teacher for a few seconds before seeing Crouch motion to them to gather in a circle.

There was once a time Marion and Emmeline would call Lily Potter their good friend, but events that went beyond anyone's control had changed that. Still, as Marion focused on her boss, she wondered if Lily was going to attend the Founders' Ball this year...it would be very interesting if she did.

* * *

They had reached the gargoyle that lead to the entrance of Dumbledore's office when Harry realized he did not know the password to the headmaster's office. However on second glance at the gargoyle, he noted that it was a bit ajar, meaning they didn't have to shout candied passwords at the stubborn statue. It also meant that someone was probably in a meeting with the headmaster.

Harry knew it would be risky to enter a meeting, especially if it was full of people. But if it was just one or two people, then it would be fine. He glanced at Ginny and she nodded a silent agreement to his plan. “ _Silencio_ ,” he pointed his wand at both his and Ginny's feet before climbing up the steps to Dumbledore's office.

They managed to make it halfway up the steps when the voices within the offices stop Harry cold.

“-can't be believed that _he_ won't attack when the students leave.”

“Which is why I am sending your team to be stationed at Kings' Cross when the students do leave. I also want you to inform James and his lot that they are going to be on guard duty when the train leaves,” Dumbledore's voice was clipped and sounded a bit angry as he interrupted whatever Mad-Eye Moody was going to say.

“Aren't you-” that was Sirius' voice who sounded concerned.

“It does not interest me this year,” Harry knew what his father sounded like, of those brief times he was able to talk to his ghost or at least after image, and while he almost did not recognize the haggard, defeated tone, he did recognize the voice and it made a shiver run uncontrollably through his body.

“Harry?” Ginny whispered, her breath warming his ear as the two of them huddled by the stairs.

He shook his head minutely, before patting her hand to indicate that he was all right even though he was sure he did not felt like it.

“But...” Sirius protested.

“Listen, that Ball is nothing but trash!” James' voice cracked, “I don't care.”

“Potter, you're our best-” Moody growled.

“Get someone else,” his father sounded so pained that it almost felt like a physical blow to Harry. A part of him was so happy to find out that his father and Sirius were alive in this universe, but the other part of him despaired at how listless James Potter sounded. What happened?

“Listen Potter-” Moody sounded angry before there was a sudden shift as his leg thunked down, “Headmaster, there are two people outside the door under a cloak of sorts. One of the looks like the Weasley girl.”

Harry felt his breath hitch as he realized that Moody had discovered them under the invisibility cloak. _Might as well face the music,_ he mused silently before taking the cloak off of himself and Ginny and stuffed it into his robes. There was no need to let anyone know that he had an invisibility cloak until he knew it was safe. Especially not since he heard his father's voice full of so much pain. Things were definitely different in this world.

“Ready?” he murmured quietly to Ginny and she gave him a sheepish grin before squeezing his hand gently.

“Ready, Merlin,” she spoke his code name, if only to convince herself and to convince him too. He hoped that no one in the room save for Dumbledore knew Legilimency or else they would be in deep trouble.

He pushed open the door and met the grim stares of Dumbledore, Sirius Black, Mad-Eye Moody, and the last person he would expect to be alive, James Potter with an equally grim stare of his own.

“Hello Mr. Moody, Mr. Black, and Mr. Potter. I am Merlin,” Harry announced before tilting his head at them, “and this is my _leftenant_ , Selwyn.” 


	4. Merlin and the War

How Harry managed to keep his expression neutral instead of revealing the joy he wanted to show at seeing Sirius alive was a miracle. But as he focused on his father, his joy immediately evaporated at the gaunt, sunken look his father wore. It was almost like seeing Sirius when he was first out of Azkaban, except worst. There was no light, not even the maniacal light he had seen in Sirius' face for the first time, just dull hazel eyes that stared back at him. A brief crinkling in the corners was the only sign of any life within those eyes.

James Potter looked so...dead...so lifeless. What had happened to make his father this way? Was it because Lily Potter was dead? No, Dumbledore had said that both of his parents were alive the night before.

“How do you know our names?” Moody's gruff tone snapped him out of his despairing thoughts as he focused on the Auror whose magical eye was focused intently on him. He resisted the urge to gulp as a bit of fear crept into his stomach at such laser intensity. How Moody had managed to see through the invisibility cloak, he didn’t know, but perhaps this world’s Moody’s magical eye was more powerful than his world’s magical eye he supposed.

“Headmaster Dumbledore was kind enough to tell us last night when we arrived,” Harry shot a quick glance at Dumbledore who winked at him, telling him that he would back up anything he said regarding their arrival. Near him, Fawkes squawked a bit, shifting on his perch before turning to preen his feathers once more.

“And you're sure you're Merlin?” Sirius looked skeptical, “pardon my rudeness, but you look awfully like Ginny Weasley, um...”

“Selwyn of the High Elves,” Ginny spoke up next to him, her voice and inflection a little different than what Harry was used to hearing from her. Her voice sounded a bit more imperious, more commanding... Harry shot her a quick look and she shook her head minutely, indicating that she would explain to him what was going on later.

“I am daughter of Lord Silvanus of the High Elves, Rumeni Glade in what I believe is part of these lands as some of the surroundings are familiar to me,” Ginny fixed Moody with a cool stare. “We came to this place in accidental accord.”

_There were flashes of light, spells slung firing throughout the air. Harry coughed from the smoky air as he threaded his way through the combatants all focused on their own battles. He needed to get to Selwyn and the others and relay the orders. They were spread too thinly..._

“ _Selwyn!” he shouted as Ginny spun, her glaive decapitating the head of an Yrck who had been trying to kill her before she glanced up at him._

“ _Merlin, where is Salazar?” she looked at him in concern and he shook his head._

Harry suddenly found himself back in Dumbledore's office and he was speaking, “-middle of battle against Morgana Le Faye's forces. And we must return as soon as possible. We do not know where Salazar had disappeared to.” He abruptly stopped, noting that his own voice had changed slightly, sounding a bit deeper, but also his inflections had also changed to a more formal clipped tone. What the hell was going on with him and Ginny?

He shot her a look and she gave him an equal one in return with a little shrug as if to say that she also did not know what had happened. He looked over at Dumbledore who had a surprised expression on his face before he quickly wiped it away as Moody looked at him.

“Headmaster is this true?” Moody still looked skeptical.

“As far as I know it to be,” Dumbledore replied, giving Moody a nod and a look that spoke volumes and told Moody that he was a skilled Legilimens and had perceived the truth from them.

“Here's my question then,” James' voice brought Harry back to stare at his father who looked at them with calculating eyes. “How in the name of Merlin, my apologies if you really are Merlin, did you get here? And how are we supposed to send you back?”

“That I do not know,” Harry tried to answer normally, but found that he couldn't. It was a bit frustrating as if the persona of Merlin had taken over his body... _wait a minute..._ The shock that surged through him from this thought suddenly snapped him out of the waking dream he was having in his mind about the battle Merlin had been fighting against Morgana Le Faye. “Professor Dumbledore says that he'll help us any way possible,” he found that his words were coming out normally instead of in the formal tone and heaved a silent sigh of relief.

“Since Merlin and his companions arrived last night, I thought it would be prudent to let them rest for now,” Dumbledore spoke up.

“Wait, there are more of you?” Sirius blinked, “is this what you were telling us yesterday?”

Harry didn't know what Sirius meant, but he had a feeling that Dumbledore had called an Order of the Phoenix meeting after he and his friends had retired to the Room of Requirement.

“Shut up Black, they don't know,” Moody growled.

“I came with three others besides myself and Selwyn,” Harry replied, he could feel a change in his words again and fought it slightly. If something had been cast on him to sound so formal and imperious, he did not want it taking over him. “Nathan Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Godric Gryffindor II.”

_Go away!_ He thought to the persona/influence that was trying to take over his speech and felt it retreat slightly. “We don't want any trouble and we're only looking to get home,” he could still feel a bit of the influence within his words, but at least it hadn't changed his speech too much.

“Which will take time,” Dumbledore cut through him and he narrowed his eyes slightly at the Headmaster. Why couldn't he understand that he did not want to fight another war; that he and his friends just came from the barely cooling embers of victory from yet another war!

“Headmaster Dumbledore has explained that there has been a long fought war occurring in this world when we arrived. We would not like to interfere for fear of perhaps changing our own timeline,” Ginny still sounded formal and Harry wondered if she was feeling the same effects as he was with his voice changing, but couldn't fight it.

“We could use your help, if you're really are Merlin and his Knights of the historical legends,” Sirius suggested, looking a bit hopeful and while Harry couldn't deny that he wanted to help Sirius, help his father, even help Moody in this war, the part of him was so tired of fighting that he wanted to do nothing more than have a few days of peace and quiet. No more running, no more fighting, no more dealing with Horcrux and ancient magic.

Harry glanced at Ginny who tilted her head as if to say 'this is your call' to him. He bit his lip for a few seconds before sighing. “I'll ask my friends. No guarantees though. We've just been through one war, and we don't like going through another.”

“But I thought you were in the middle of battle?” Moody asked and Harry cringed inwardly. He realized that he had said they had come from the midst of a battle, and wars that ended did not have battles continuing.

“We've recently defeated Queen Mab and her forces when Morgana Le Faye took over her mantle and attacked us,” he hastily explained, glad that he had read the book Dumbledore had given to them last night.

“But when that happened, I thought you guys were like at least forty-years-old or something,” Sirius frowned and Harry cursed silently. Sirius just had to be a Merlin expert like Ginny, didn't he...it made things too complicated.

“I do not know what history has been written, Mr. Black, but rest assured, we are not the ages you speak of in the history books. And we have, in fact just come from war,” Ginny looked frostily at Sirius and Harry bit his lip again to keep from seeing a slightly humbled expression on his face. Even though Ginny seemed to be influenced by perhaps the persona of Selwyn, she still looked scary enough to rival her mother.

“I would like to introduce the rest of Merlin's Knights to the Order if possible tonight, but it depends on Merlin here,” Dumbledore looked at him and Harry wondered why. Maybe if the rest of the Order knew of their plight, they would be able to find out how to get home, but he also had a nasty feeling that it would be a ploy for Dumbledore to ask them for help in their war against Voldemort. Of that, he would refuse until he knew more information and what they were getting into. If James and Lily were alive and his counterpart in this world was dead, then was there someone who had survived the Killing Curse? Was there a Boy-Who-Lived or even a Girl-Who-Lived?

“Hopefully one of them will help us think of a way to get home,” he shrugged, feeling the influence trying to return and brushed it away in his mind. “When?”

“Ten o'clock, I will have one of the Order take you from your rooms to the meeting area,” Dumbledore was being cautious and Harry understood why. If he just gave them the location and they went to the place, it would show that they knew Hogwarts instead of being Merlin and his Knights.

“What about Crouch and his Aurors?” Moody suddenly spoke up, “they'll be patrolling the area.”

“Do not concern yourself about that Alastor,” Dumbledore shook his head, “I'll have Marion deal with that.”

“You sure she's still loyal to the Order?” Sirius looked concerned.

“She is,” James quickly replied, cutting Sirius off and sounding, for the first time, sure of himself. “I would know if she isn't.”

“Yeah, but James...”

“She is,” his tone brook a note of finality and Harry nearly jumped at it.

“All right, all right, I'm not arguing with you,” his godfather raised his hands and gave a small smile at James which wasn't returned. Harry blinked in surprise. Of all the memories, all the stories, all the pictures he had of his father and Sirius, he had never seen once, James not crack a smile back at his best friends' attempt at jokes. What had happened to his father in this world?

Moody, he noted, was watching the whole exchange with a grim expression before hobbling over to the two and placed a hand on James' shoulder. “Potter, take your patrol now. Black, shouldn't you be teaching a class soon?”

“Yeah, going...” Sirius waved Moody's comment away before leaving the room ahead of James and nodded his head towards both Harry and Ginny, “Merlin, Lady Selwyn, it has been an honor to meet you.”

Harry nodded in reply before Sirius disappeared down the stairs with James following behind him, just nodding a goodbye to them. Moody gave them an appraising look before hobbling down the stairs, closing the door behind him. As soon as the door closed, Harry felt as if the influence had suddenly disappeared while next to him, Ginny gasped a breath, tilting forward slightly before straightening.

“Ginny?” he placed a hand on her shoulder in concern.

“I'm fine...I'm...fine,” she shook her head before staring at Dumbledore, “I felt like someone was influencing my words. I wanted to say everything so plainly, but it felt so alien at the same time...”

“It's not a coincidence then,” Harry murmured before also looking at Dumbledore, “what did you do to us?” His other hand fingered his phoenix-feathered wand in the folds of his robes; ready to fire a spell at Dumbledore should he suddenly turn into Voldemort or someone who had tricked them with Polyjuice Potion.

“My dear boy,” Dumbledore just looked puzzled, “I did not do anything. All I did was give you alias for which you could use. I must admit, I am puzzled by the formal language you were using earlier.”

Harry wanted to trust Dumbledore and wished he knew Legilimency to see if the Headmaster was telling the truth. He had trusted this world's Dumbledore to get them back home so if the Headmaster and Minister of Magic told them that he did not know what was going on...but...

Wait a minute...Neville had said that Nathan Hufflepuff was a Dreamer last night and there was the potential for all of them to be Dreamers in the alias they had taken up...what if...

“Professor, what is a Dreamer?” he suddenly asked.

“You mean from the story written in _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_?” Dumbledore asked and he nodded, “why do you ask?”

“The book you gave us last night said that Nathan Hufflepuff was a Dreamer,” Ginny explained, “and we've never heard of the term Dreamer before.”

“Not in your world?” Dumbledore looked alarmed and a sliver of fear shot through Harry. What was it about the Dreamers that had the Headmaster so alarmed? What was it that what they didn't even know could influence this world?

Dumbledore suddenly looked older and gestured to Fawkes, “Fawkes, can you please fetch the rest of our guests from the Room of Requirement. I believe it is something they should hear.”

The phoenix chirped once before disappearing in a ball of flame. A few minutes later, Fawkes flamed back into existence in the room, with Ron in tow before disappearing once more. Two more flames brought Hermione and Neville back before he flew to his perch and began to preen his other wing.

“Harry? What's wrong?” Hermione looked concerned.

“I summoned you here, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, and Mr. Longbottom, because I believe there is something you should know about our world before anything else happens,” Dumbledore tapped his finger tips together before waving a hand and five seats popped into existence in front of his table and they sat down. “Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley here discovered something disturbing when they were talking with Mr. Moody, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Black a few minutes ago.”

“Harry, that's great news! Sirius and your father are still alive here!” Hermione looked ecstatic and Harry nodded his thanks.

“As I was saying, a very unusual occurrence happened while Harry and Ginny were here,” Dumbledore continued, “it seemed that their speeches each turned more formal, more of a precise inflection while they were talking. I witnessed Harry's speech returning to a more normal state after the first time while Miss Weasley continued for the duration of the conversation. I believe this is the work of the Dreamers.”

“The book you gave us said that Nathan Hufflepuff was a Dreamer, but it didn't specify which one,” Neville spoke up.

“The _Tales of Beedle the Bard_ said that there were thirteen Dreamers, and seven of them rose up against the other six,” said Hermione.

“The Dreamers are real and they have been passed from generation to generation in this world. I am quite surprise that it has not happened in your world because of the great amount of magic power each holds, but it is said that the Dreamers stand for the seven sins of Man and the five virtues of Man. The sixth Dreamer, the littlest Dreamer in the book, is the leader of all the Dreamers,” Dumbledore said in a grave tone.

“The seven sins of Man... That’s Gluttony, Sloth, Pride, Lust, Wrath, and Envy,” Hermione said in a thoughtful voice, “what about five virtues of Man?”

“Temperance, Courage, Wisdom, Faith, and Justice,” Dumbledore replied, “except many of the seven sins were replaced, Fears, Anger, Corruptions, Covetousness.”

“Why?” Ron looked confused.

“Either the powers died out or the wielder of the time decided to change his or her title to suit their needs. And you must admit, Dreamer of Fears sounds a lot more formidable than say Dreamer of Gluttony or Sloth,” Dumbledore looked at them with serious blue eyes, not even a twinkle in them.

“What's so special about them?” Ginny asked.

“It has not been written, but through the legends, a Dreamer has the ability to manifest unique powers that enable them to perform great feats of magic and to inspire or even command others. In our world, there have been multiple instances where a wizard or witch manifested the powers of a Dreamer. No one for sure could say why types of powers, but each of the Hogwarts Founders were also Dreamers. Godric Gryffindor, as you can imagine, was the Dreamer of Courage. Rowena Ravenclaw, the Dreamer of Wisdom, Helga Hufflepuff, the Dreamer of Temperance, and Salazar Slytherin the Dreamer of Faith.”

“But that was only four, I thought you said there were thirteen,” Harry pointed out.

“Dreamers do not have to appear in all thirteen instances. The instance that the Hogwarts Founders manifested their powers was during the war before Hogwarts was established. However, during the war Slytherin turned sides along with Ravenclaw and the two changed their powers and announced themselves to be the Dreamers of Fears and Envy, respectively,” Dumbledore looked thoughtful.

“You can do that? Dreamer powers can change?” Neville looked utterly lost and Harry even noted that the rest of them looked lost. Only Hermione had a focused look on her face, her mind absorbing all of the information. Half of it was getting to Harry; the other half was flying right over his head. He made a mental note to ask Hermione for a more concise explanation after they returned to the Room of Requirement.

“Professor, you only mentioned twelve of the Dreamers. Who was the leader of the Dreamers?” how Hermione was paying attention and counting the number of Dreamers mentioned was beyond Harry, but he was intrigued.

“Ah,” Dumbledore took his glasses off for a second and cleaned it with a small cloth he had conjured up before placing them back on his nose, “the littlest Dreamer was the Dreamer of Hopes, the mortal enemy of the Dreamer of Fears.”

“So how does this relate to us?” he spoke up.

“A Dreamer's power manifests through dreams and through 'influence' as Miss Weasley had said. It is said that a Dreamer's powers subtly guide a user to its greatest benefit and also protects the person at the same time from any outside harm or influences until a bond of trust is formed,” the Headmaster replied and Harry instantly knew that Dumbledore was suggesting that they were manifesting their “Dreamer” powers or whatever it was.

A part of him wanted to balk at such nonsense, yet another part of him knew that it was the right explanation to why he and Ginny had changed and it most certainly did explain the life-like real dream he had last night. It also definitely proved that Merlin and his Knights were Dreamers. He had no doubt that Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville had dreams like him or even if they didn't, they would soon. It was the subtleties of magic that he knew had brought them to this world, had proven the Dreamers were real... But why them? Why did they suddenly start manifesting these...powers after they had arrived in the world?

“That sounds like the voice of experience,” Hermione spoke up, her tone frank.

“Very perceptive, Miss Granger,” the twinkle was back in Dumbledore's eyes, “and yes, it is experience. It is because I was the Dreamer of Hopes.”

Silence reigned in the room, save for Fawkes' preening of his feathers.

“Does that mean Voldemort is the Dreamer of Fears?” Harry asked slowly, feeling an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. If they were Dreamers, that meant that Dumbledore wanted them to fight. This world wanted them to fight...something he did not want to do. He wanted to go home...to at least have some peace.

“Voldemort? Oh you mean, the Black King,” Dumbledore shook his head, “no...he is not the Dreamer of Fears.”

There was a second of silence before Hermione spoke up, her voice and expression flat.

“You've got to be joking,” Hermione looked completely distressed and Harry glanced at her, confused.

She met his stare and shook her head, “Hopes' mortal enemy is Fears. Who do you think is the Headmaster's greatest enemy...?”

Harry frowned as he thought back to what he knew about Dumbledore and his eyes widened as he realized who Hermione was talking about. “Grindelwald...” he whispered.

“You're fighting both V-Voldemort and Grindelwald?!” Ron squeaked out.

Dumbledore caught his eye and nodded solemnly. “Now you know why I have asked you to consider fighting for us. For the past ten years, we have been slowly losing this war, and people are losing hope.

“We would like your help.”

* * *

As soon as Sirius Black left the confines of the Headmaster, no the Minister's office, he slowed his pace down to let his best friend catch up with him before the two of them headed towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom where he was supposed to finish final preparation work for seventh years and their N.E.W.T.s. Their mutual friend, Remus Lupin was just about finished with the first year Gryffindor-Hufflepuff class if his chronometer was reading the time correctly.

“You okay, James?” he glanced to his left as he saw a dark look on his best friend's face. It was normally the face James had been wearing for the past fifteen years, but today's scowl was a little deeper than normal.

“You didn't have to question Marion's allegiance up there, especially in front of those guests that Dumbledore had. For Merlin's sake we don't even know if they were even telling the truth,” James gave him a dark look.

“The Minister trusts them,” Sirius shrugged, “he is one of the most skilled Legilimens we know of in Hogwarts besides Sna-”

“Sirius,” James cut him off warningly and Sirius immediately shut his mouth against the name he was going to say.

“Sorry mate,” he apologized. He knew he had a bad habit of speaking before he thought and was about to bring up the name of the person James least wanted to hear. “But you have to admit, if they are who they are, it means that you and some of the other families may be directly descended from them. I mean, did you even see Merlin? He looks like the spitting image of you, except a lot younger and with different eyes.”

James shrugged, the dark look receding a bit, “Don't really care for it. It's not going to help me now is it?”

“Yeah, but it makes sense to maybe where Godric Gryffindor got his Dreamer powers from? I mean, it would definitely make sense since you were a Dreamer-”

“Sirius, we've been through this. I don't give a rat's arse about it! It's over! It's not going to change a thing!” James cut through him roughly, “why the hell do you keep harping on it?!”

Sirius narrowed his eyes angrily. There were times he hated when his best friend was in the worst of these moods. It was like he was trying so hard to push everything away from him, yet to try to keep them close once more. He blamed most of it on the war, but he had also blamed a lot of it on Lily and what had happened sixteen years ago at Godric's Hollow. “Listen,” he hissed at James, “if you want a pity party, go bother the ghosts. I'm only trying to help. If you don't want help, then say the word. You can have your pity party by yourself.”

His words had their immediate effect as James' anger suddenly dissipated and was replaced by such a worn and despairing look before the Auror shook his head and ran a hand through his matted hair. “Sorry, Sirius...” James looked so old, beyond his thirty-seven years, “I just...everyone's been asking me about the Ball in the past few days and it brought back too many old memories.”

Sirius patted James' shoulder. He was always quick to forgive his best friend...after all, besides Remus; there was no one else James could turn to these days. “I understand. I'll get Moody off your back about it if you want.” Even though he was a teacher, he split his time with Remus teaching DADA to patrol the halls as one of Moody's Aurors at night, making sure the wards and area was secure.

“Don't...I'll go...” James sighed, “It’ll be better than last year.”

“But if you don't bring Lily...”

“People already know. It's an open secret if I don't bring Lily. She can suffer the consequences,” James gave him a crooked smile.

“You don't mean that, do you?” Sirius couldn't believe what he was hearing. Was his best friend so quick to admit defeat after fifteen years?

James' facade crumpled a bit before he shook his head, “No...I don't. I'll...ask her later tonight. Can you pass the message that I want to talk to her after dinner before the Order meeting?”

“I will,” there were times Sirius wanted to hex both Lily and her paramour, whom he deemed never to name in James' presence, but he knew that he couldn't, if for the sake of Lily, but more so for the sake of James' mental health. His best friend was still holding a torch for her after all these years and would give his life to protect her to the end. He couldn't fight her paramour because of the sacrifice and the bargain that saved him sixteen years ago at Godric's Hollow. It hurt Sirius to see James so broken, so alone, but he knew that his best friend wasn't as cowardly to take his own life as a result. No, James was as much of a Gryffindor as he was and would see everything to the end.

At times, whenever there were attacks, he would see his old friend rise up to the forefront, the confident leader, the Gryffindor that was one of the best Aurors in the entire Ministry, but after battle, James had always retreated into his shell. He knew that he stayed for the sake of his children, but there were times that he wondered if his best friend had anymore sanity left to hold himself together so they would be able to finish this war.

James Potter was a man who lost hope a long time ago and Sirius Black hoped that he could find it soon; otherwise, the former Dreamer of Courage would be forever doomed.

* * *

It was about two hours after they had finished dinner and were pouring over the books once more in the Room of Requirement when Harry realized that he and Ginny didn't get a chance to tell Dumbledore about Barty Crouch Jr. being a Death Eater in their world. After all of the enlightening information the Headmaster had told them in the morning, he had completely forgotten to mention Crouch Jr. to him and instead they had retreated back into the Room to do some frantic reading. Hermione had gone back to the Library along with Neville and taken out more books, narrowly avoiding Madam Pince's hawkish gaze.

He considered sneaking out again, but a quick glance at the worn gold watch given to him by Mrs. Weasley made him decide against the plan. He ran the risk of running into too many students at Hogwarts before proper introductions were made. Plus, after their meeting with Dumbledore earlier, they had been cautioned against making too many trips in the halls of the school because of patrolling Aurors. Dumbledore had said that given the mood of this world and of the state of the war against the Dark Lord Grindelwald, which was currently in an uneasy cease fire, the Aurors had been given orders to hex anything that they deemed suspicious. The only people they could not hex were students themselves.

Harry had considered himself and Ginny fortunate that the Auror with the icy blue eyes had not caught them, otherwise they would have had to defend themselves and given headaches to all those involved. He also did not want to alert Crouch Jr. of anything until he could warn Dumbledore of the spy within their midst.

A brief thought occurred to him; was Severus Snape a spy within Dumbledore's ranks if the Dark Lord was Grindelwald instead of Voldemort? Was he even alive? And what was Voldemort's role if Grindelwald was the Dark Lord? There were so many unknown variables in this world that Harry felt a bit like the childhood book he had read, _Alice in Wonderland_ – except there was no scarily grinning Cheshire Cat.

Dumbledore had spoken of Voldemort as if he was nothing too important, but had also named him the Black King...like a chess piece of sorts.

“Hey Ron?” he looked up from a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ he was supposed to be reading.

“Yeah?” Ron was buried in the book that Dumbledore had given them, an utterly absorbed and fascinated expression on his face. If Harry hadn't found the situation grim, he would have laughed at the bookish expression that his best friend wore. It was so like Hermione's.

“Is there a purpose of the Black King in wizard's chess?” he asked.

“No, not really. It can move one position only, no restrictions on the board, per turn, but not much else. It also has the power to turn pieces into queens or other pieces if they reach the other end of the board if they want,” Ron shrugged.

“Like checkers?”

“What's checkers?” his best friend looked at him, confused.

“Never mind,” Harry mused the information over. If applicable to real life, then perhaps Voldemort was Grindelwald's lieutenant. But the Voldemort he knew would never be subservient to anyone else save for himself. So then was this world's Voldemort different?

“Some of the old volumes of the _Prophet_ , around the 1970s and 1980s read a bit like wizard's chess. Black King turns Black Bishop, Black King corrupts White Rook, Black Queen takes Black Queen,” Hermione spoke up from the confines of a rather large tome that had engulfed her legs and at least came all the way up to her waist. Harry recognized the tome holding at least a couple of decade’s worth of _Prophet_ headlines.

“Black Queen takes Black Queen?” Ginny had opted to take one of the books Hermione had brought in the morning and was reading it. She sat on the opposite end of the couch that Harry occupied, her legs propped up on his and a blanket covered the lower half of her body.

“Probably changing lieutenants or something,” Ron muttered.

“October 15th, 1988, the Black Queen has betrayed the Black King and the Dark Lord and thus was put to death by the new Black Queen. Sources have not said who this new Black Queen is, but it is speculated that the former Black Queen was working for the rebel Ministry lead by the traitorous Albus Dumbledore. Why the Dark Lord has not dealt with the leader of Hogwarts is beyond anyone's guess-”

“ _The Prophet's_ more opinionated in this world than in ours. Rita Skeeter?” Ginny asked her distaste for the rumor mongering woman evident in her voice.

“It doesn't matter, but this proves that there has been more than one grumbling within Grindelwald's forces. But it still...” Hermione trailed off as she turned a page and Harry noticed her face paled.

“What?” he spoke up, bringing everyone's gazes on Hermione who looked at him with unreadable eyes before propping up the page she was on so he could see the headline.

**ATTACK ON GODRIC'S HOLLOW, MANY FEARED DEAD**

October 31st, 1981

Reputed members of the Order of the Ministry and Aurors James and Lily Potter's son, Harry, feared amongst the dead. Local historian Bathilda Bagshot feared dead

Harry felt like someone had walked over his grave as he read the sub-headline. He had just read his own, or rather his counterpart's death in a newspaper headline and it made him a bit sick to the stomach. So it was true, Dumbledore was telling the truth. He was dead in this world; he had not survived the Killing Curse from Voldemort or even Grindelwald if Grindelwald had initiated the curse.

Ginny placed a silent hand on his shoulder and he absently grasped it, squeezing it in reassurance as Hermione turned the tome away from him and looked at him with knowing eyes. “Sorry,” she whispered.

He shook his head, “Don't apologize.”

“It said Order of the Ministry...don't they mean Order of the Phoenix?” Neville spoke up, pouring over another newspaper filled tome.

“It is a different world,” he let Ginny's hand go as she moved closer to him and he relaxed in her presence. She understood his moods and he was grateful that she was there to support him. “There would be differences,” Harry knew exactly what Ginny was talking about; it was regarding the Sirius Black and James Potter they saw in Dumbledore's office.

“Harry, are we really going to fight this war?” Neville looked at him before the others also looked at him.

He grimaced. He really did not want to fight a war, especially with so many things changed. His scar didn't even prickle with pain and he knew that it wouldn't because his counterpart was dead. It also meant there was no Boy-Who-Lived so whatever advantage he had in this world was eliminated. They had also finished fighting a war just two days ago and were certainly exhausted.

But Dumbledore had stared at them like they were saviors, had hope fill his voice as he asked them to help. From whatever little they had seen so far, this world was much darker and filled with despair. This was a world that had lost hope and was desperately trying to find some. Then there was the mysterious Dreamer powers he and Ginny, and he suspected the others, were manifesting. Did the Dreamer power want them to fight because they were the only ones left who would be able to fight?

He had a feeling that when they went to the Order meeting tonight, there would be more of the same faces he had seen. Whipped, exhausted, and tired faces. Faces of those who had given up hope and everything else; faces of those who had succumbed to the inevitable defeat that was staring Hogwarts in the face. They would probably fight, but it wouldn't be much of an effort if Grindelwald of Voldemort were to storm the castle. There would be no effort...nothing...

“I...don't know,” he replied honestly, staring at his friends one by one, “I don't know. I want to go home...I want to rest...I want...” He closed his mouth as he realized that he was babbling. He wanted nothing more than to go home, to sleep, to finally have the peace that had been plaguing him for sixteen years. The peace that was forcibly taken away from him on October 31st, 1981.

“We understand,” Ginny said softly and he looked down at her, his eyes shining with gratefulness. “It's how we all feel...”

“But...” Hermione started softly before Ron elbowed her gently in the ribs, cutting her off and she immediately shut up, staring pensively at the newspaper headline she was on, but her eyes never reading it.

Harry sighed softly. He knew Hermione wanted to help this world. It was her nature to do so; to help any creature or person who was suffering. He wondered if there were times she knew she was acting like the Mother Theresa of the Wizarding world? “All right, we go to the meeting then decide, okay?”

“You sure mate?” Ron tilted his head.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

Just then a soft knock startled them from their contemplative silence and Harry glanced at the watch. It was quarter to ten, fifteen minutes before the meeting was going to start. He got up from his seat, his right hand in his robes, fingering his wand. He could feel the subtle presence of the Dreamer that had personified Merlin taking over him and this time let it.

“Come,” he heard his voice changing and saw looks of surprise from Hermione, Ron, and Neville out of the corner of his eyes even though he had already told them what to expect should they also be Dreamers.

The door opened and to Harry's surprise it was the owner of the icy blue eyes that had nearly seen him and Ginny earlier in the day. She was tall, beautiful even, and he suspected that she had some veela blood within her. No one could have looked that beautiful save for Fleur Delacour. Raven black hair framed her face and she wore robes of a dark blue. However, he noticed a patch over the left breast of her robes...it was the patch of the Aurors, but somehow bore another coat of arms on top of it, a coat of arms he did not recognize.

“You are...?” he dare not fight the influence on his words. If she could spot him and Ginny under the invisibility cloak then she was dangerous.

“Marion Sadow of Crouch's Aurors,” she tapped the patch on her robes and bowed slightly to them, “I am also of the Order of the Ministry and have come to guide you and your companions to the meeting, Lord Merlin.”

“Just Merlin,” Harry automatically corrected and blinked inwardly at the words that tumbled out of his mouth. “I am neither holder of lands nor of noble birth. I am a simple man borne from the care of my mother Ambrosia.”

“My apologies,” Marion bowed again and Harry wondered if the woman was going to be formal with them the whole time.

“You are the Marion James Potter was referring too?” Ginny suddenly spoke up next to him and Harry nearly jumped. He had not heard her get up from the couch and wondered if part of the influence of Selwyn that Ginny had was to be completely silent.

Marion narrowed her eyes slightly before nodding curtly. “There are two factions of Aurors who report to Minister Dumbledore. I belong to one of the factions lead by Bartemius Crouch Jr. The other one is lead by Alastor Moody.”

“Why?” as Rowena Ravenclaw, Hermione sounded more bookish, if possible.

“I...am not at liberty to say, but there are creative differences in leadership if you will,” Marion looked a bit uncomfortable and Harry nodded.

“Understood,” he glanced at the others, “are we ready?”

“Lead on, let's get this party over with,” Ron spoke up, his voice a bit deeper and more jovial as Godric Gryffindor II. Harry nearly balked at the tone and forced himself to keep his composure lest give away that they weren't who they were in front of the sharp-eyed Auror.

Beyond Ron, Neville shook his head, deigning not to open his mouth lest potentially unleashing something as outrageous as Ron's comments as Godric be heard in the room. Harry had to suppress a snicker...Neville was one smart man.

Turning back to Marion, he just barely caught her regaining her own composure at Ron's words and a crooked smile quirked the corner of his lips. So she wasn't as stuffy as she had initially appeared to be. “Shall we?” he gestured for her to lead the way to the meeting.

“Please follow me,” Marion turned and headed out of the door with the rest of them following behind her.

A thrill of anticipation rushed through Harry and he felt the influence within him respond with a flicker of power that shot like energy through him, purging any sign of sleepiness or exhaustion from his body. He didn't know why, but it was as if the influence was looking forward to this meeting, finally meeting some of the key players in this world.


	5. The Changed Order

They were led directly to the teacher's room behind the Great Hall, a place Harry and the others were well familiar with. It didn't look any different except no fire in the fireplace, which was a bit odd, but understandable since it was the middle of June. There were people in the room already, and all of them turned to look at them as they walked in behind Marion, but overall a lot less people than Harry imagined at an Order meeting.

He suspected based on the information they had been reading about the history of this world that the Order was spread thinly, much like it had during their run from Voldemort. Everyone was either living in fear or under the scrutiny of Grindelwald and Voldemort’s forces. The difference was that there were two rival ministries and either the Dark Lord nor Black King had attacked Hogwarts directly, preferring to attack known Wizarding places like Diagon Alley or even the Quidditch World Cup.

He wondered why and assumed another audience with Dumbledore alone was in order. A small movement behind Harry made him look to see Neville fidgeting a bit uncomfortably as everyone’s gazes were focused on them. He pushed the feeling away, having felt like that since fifth year when he was ostracized by the Ministry.

“Please wait here,” Marion murmured to them as they waited in a corner of the room. Harry noted that Dumbledore had not arrived yet and looked around the room, identifying the Order members in his head as he looked at them. Marion went to another corner of the room, standing next to someone who looked similar to her and he guessed that he was probably a brother or cousin related to her. Near them was his father, a stony expression on his face with Sirius and Remus talking in low voices about something he couldn’t quite catch.

His breath hitched slightly as he saw Peter Pettigrew next to them. His mind screamed traitor, but he forced himself to steady his wand hand, lest give in the urge to hex Pettigrew for what he did. For all he knew this Pettigrew did nothing in this world and was still a loyal friend of James, Sirius, and Remus. But he also knew that he would warn Dumbledore to keep a sharp eye on Pettigrew…and the same with Crouch Jr.

“Neville?” Hermione’s concerned whisper brought his attention to Neville who looked like he had seen a ghost.

“M-Mum…” Neville breathed out quietly before trying to wipe the shock from his face before anyone else could see.

Harry turned towards the direction Neville was staring at and indeed saw Alice Longbottom healthy and hale looking. But where was Neville’s father, Frank? A small surge of joy filled him as he was glad Neville’s parents, or at least his mother was all right in this world. The joy filled him even further as he glanced to the right of Alice and saw his mother, sitting in one of the high-backed lounge chairs in the room, a book in her hand. She looked…so beautiful…so much like the memories he had of her and when the Resurrection Stone had brought her ghostly form to a half-life.

His eyes drank in her form until a pale, sallow hand touched her shoulder briefly and he looked to see who had interrupted his field of vision. He managed not to let his jaw drop in shock but instead his eyes widened as he saw Severus Snape lean down and say a few words to his mother.

A quick glance over to the opposite side of the room caught James’ narrowed eyes and a glare directed towards Snape before he looked away, hurt written all over his face. He looked back at his mother and saw that she was pointedly ignoring his father and he felt his joy disappear as he realized what was going on. His parents…

“Hey mate, you all right?” Ron spoke up next to him and Harry reached up and pretended to scratch the corner of his eyes as he wiped away a tear that was threatening to fall down his face at the heart-wrenching scene. His parents did not love each other anymore…his mother loved Snape and was probably married to him. His father obviously still had feelings for her, but he was a bitter man…it all made sense now.

“Fine, just an itchy eye,” he replied before turning his gaze elsewhere. He did not want to see anymore of the broken family that was his in this world. He suspected they probably divorced each other when his counterpart died that fateful night on Halloween, 1981.

“My apologies for calling this meeting at the last minute, but as you can see, we have some important news,” Dumbledore suddenly called from the door as he swept in, Professor McGonagall following behind him and closing the door before casting a spell on it to prevent anyone else from listening in on the meeting.

“Shacklebolt?” Sirius spoke up.

“He and Amelia could not make it tonight. Too many eyes watching at the moment,” Dumbledore replied and Harry was pleased to hear that Kingsley Shacklebolt was still alive and a part of the Order in this world. Amelia, he hoped was Amelia Bones. The woman did have a good sense of justice and what was right and wrong when she had questioned him during the Wizengamot trial in his fifth year.

The other members of the Order nodded before Dumbledore turned to them, “In our war against the Dark Lord and his compatriots, besides establishing another Ministry to preserve the welfare of all Wizarding-kind, there is a select group of wizards and witches who undertake some of the most dangerous missions. We call ourselves the Order of the Ministry.”

It was still a shock to hear instead of Order of the Phoenix it was Order of the Ministry, but he supposed that was one of the differences in the worlds.

“Is there a particular reason why? I was under the presumption that your Ministry was very secure within the walls of this school,” Hermione spoke up, her voice and inflection deeper. For the first time, Harry noticed that her normally bushy brown hair was a bit of a darker brown and her features had changed ever so slightly. Enough that she looked a little different than the Hermione he had remembered and wondered if it was her Dreamer powers influencing the change. He suspected it wasn’t permanent, but rather a defense mechanism just in case anyone asked if they looked like their counterparts in this world.

“Her-err…Rowena-“ Ron nearly tripped over Hermione’s name before correcting himself quickly.

“It is a fair question,” Hermione shot Ron a look, telling him to shut up before looking back at the Headmaster.

Dumbledore nodded and looked grim, “I have established this Order for the sole purpose of using any means necessary to defeat the Dark Lord. Each member of the Order has pledged their loyalty to me and to the defeat of the Dark Lord. Each member is willing to throw away their own life if it means total and complete victory. The Order was established in case the Ministry was to fall under the Dark Lord’s attacks.”

Harry found it a bit odd as to why Dumbledore didn’t refer to Grindelwald by name and instead called him the Dark Lord, but pushed the puzzling thought from his mind as he mulled over what he said. It was more war-like than the Order of the Phoenix, but he supposed it was also because they were in such dark times that extreme measures needed to be taken.

The Headmaster then turned and addressed the Order, “My fellow members, many of you have heard the news at yesterday’s emergency meeting, but for those who have not, I would like to present Merlin and his Knights.”

Everyone in the room stared at them and Harry suddenly felt self conscious. He glanced at his friends who were looking back at him, expecting him to speak and suddenly felt the influence he was sure was the Dreamer Merlin now, settling over his mind and body. Earlier, when he had been trying to push it away to stop it from influencing his words, he now welcomed it. It would at least help him say the right things without giving away that they weren’t who they were.

“Headmaster Dumbledore,” Harry found himself saying and was a bit glad that even the influence refused to call Dumbledore Minister of Magic as it was a bit too weird, “has kindly offered Hogwarts as sanctuary to us while we find a way back to our world.”

“You mean to tell us that…you traveled from another world, here?!” Lily spoke up, her brow furrowed in thought.

“Lily Potter, Merlin, she teaches our Muggle Studies classes,” Dumbledore interjected.

“But that’s theoretically impossible,” his mother continued, not noticing that everyone’s eyes was on her and Harry shot a look to Hermione who shrugged. “It can only happen if the…”

“Professor Potter?” Dumbledore prodded.

“It could only happen if there is a magical rip in the universe from which we are from, enough to disrupt the balances and throw us into a completely different world or even a different time,” Hermione spoke up, “Professor Potter is correct in thinking of that assumption. It was the conclusion I had thought up also.”

Harry looked at his mother and saw the bright spark of calculating knowledge behind her green eyes. He realized that if they weren’t careful around her, then their identities would be blown completely apart. His mother was a bit scary in that respect… It was also then that he realized his mother had kept the Potter last name, which meant she was still married to his father…and having an affair with Snape. The thought wasn’t comforting and it still saddened him, but at least his parents weren’t divorced.

“We were in the midst of a battle with Morgana Le Faye’s forces when we suddenly found ourselves here,” he felt the Dreamer influence fade a little, letting him speak normally, “we need to return as soon as possible because-“

“ _What have you done with Salazar?!” he screamed at Morgana, feeling a trickle of blood slide down from his cheek and into his mouth, but he didn’t care as he glared at the sorceress._

“ _Silly boy…he’s forever mine,” she cackled madly, her hands alive with electricity that arced around her body._

_He cursed silently as he dived towards the ground, away from the first bolt of electricity singed the ground where he had been standing. The dirt and rocks showered around him before he pointed his wand at her and fired a spell. “Coronum!”_

“-my half-brother Salazar was captured by Morgana and her forces,” Harry finished, shaking his head a bit to clear away the waking dream he just had. _It’s inconvenient_ , he directed the thought at the influence that seemingly shrugged in his mind and settled over his presence again.

“Half-brother?!” the man whose features resembled Marion Sadow’s looked completely shocked and stepped forward, “but that’s…Godric here is supposed to be your half-brother!”

“Family politics,” Ron replied, “nothing that concerns you.” There was an edge of warning in his tone that Harry had never heard before. Something that sent alarm bells through the influence and he glanced at Ron, wondering what Godric Gryffindor II was getting at.

“But-“

“Drop it,” Ron’s eyes became hooded and dark and a dangerous aura seemed to engulf him.

“Marius,” Dumbledore held out a hand to wave the man back and he reluctantly nodded before backing away.

It was also then that Harry noticed whispers had erupted around the members of the Order and glanced at Ron who looked at him, completely puzzled as to what had just happened. The influence of Merlin that was in him wanted answers to whatever Godric had just said, but Harry shoved its concerns out of his mind. He did not want to deal with whatever issues Merlin may have with Godric at the moment.

“That…” James’ voice was hoarse, but there was a glimmer of hope within his tone, “was…Courage, was it not?”

“Huh?” Ron looked confused, “that was simple-“

“I think Mr. Potter means you are a Dreamer, are you not?” Dumbledore asked and Harry noticed that any twinkle in the Headmaster’s eyes was gone.

“A wha?” Ron now looked completely confused before Hermione elbowed him in the ribs.

“Honestly Godric,” she sniffed, “you have been going on about how as the Dreamer of Courage you would defeat the nefarious forces of the evil Queen Mab and the evil Sorceress Morgana Le Faye. Could you not recognize your own powers when you manifest them?”

Harry tried to keep the smirk off of his face as he could hear both Hermione and Rowena Ravenclaw ream Ron and Godric out, but was unsuccessful. Beside him Ginny snickered lightly while Neville valiantly tried to remain neutral but utterly failed before giving Ron a crooked grin.

“So the legends are true,” the man named Marius spoke up, “Godric Gryffindor was a Dreamer…more specifically the Dreamer of Courage. Does that mean, Lord Hufflepuff, are you-?”

“Dreamer of Justice, yes,” Neville spoke up quietly, not looking at Marius, but instead was staring at his mother. “I am…”

Harry felt a well of panic rise up within him. He knew Merlin was a Dreamer, but he did not know which one. Glancing at Ginny and Hermione he also noticed that the two of them were unsure of their Dreamer powers and relaxed slightly. At least he wasn’t the only one who was a bit clueless.

“Will you help us in this war?” Remus’ quiet, steady voice spoke up from the far corner where he sat next to Sirius, James, Pettigrew and Harry noted to his relief, a healthy bubblegum pink-haired Tonks – or was it Mrs. Lupin, he did not know.

Harry hesitated. Part of him realized that this world was on the brink of falling down a darker path than any of them could imagine. He wanted to help his parents, to find out what could have driven them apart, what made them into such broken people. He wanted to bring back hope to the world, to let the Army of Light win over Grindelwald and Voldemort. But yet another part of him yearned for the peace that he and his friends justly deserved. They had fought Voldemort for half of their lives and had finally beaten him. They wanted nothing more than to rest and let the burden of destiny drop from their shoulders.

But as he stared at each of the Order members, lingering the longest on his mother’s face, drinking in her features and eyes no longer emerald like his, but a dull green, worn down by the war around her, he already knew in his heart that he couldn’t refuse. It was a need within him, a need to see his parents, still alive in this world, happy. He wanted a future for them, a future for his friends’ counterparts in this world. They deserved happiness and peace as much as they did in their own world.

No one deserved to live in the dark shadows of two Dark Lords and most certainly no one deserved to live in fear. He knew what fear did to people, how it twisted minds, how it turned friends on each other-

Harry suddenly started and stared at Snape as he felt a distant probe in his mind and immediately tried to erect a mental block with his feeble Occulmency skills he had. He was mildly surprised when he felt the influence of the Dreamer Merlin take over and reinforce the mental block.

“Get out of my head,” he growled at Snape and immediately the probe disappeared from his mind and everyone stared at Snape who was staring at him in mild shock, or at least an expression he thought was mild shock. Even in this world, the Potions master was very good at keeping his expression closed and to himself. It was only through the memories that he had seen of Snape in the Pensieve that he had a better understanding and reading of the man’s expressions.

“Severus-“ Dumbledore started before Harry raised a hand to cut the Headmaster off.

“I am sure Professor Snape meant no harm,” he answered as Merlin, “after all, a former Dreamer would be curious of yet another Dreamer.” Harry immediately clamped his own mouth shut; that was not what he wanted to say. _What the hell are you doing?_ He questioned the influence silently and received an equivalent of a mental shrug from the presence. A part of him was surprised that the influence seemed capable of communicating, but the other part of was baffled at how such a thing could happen.

“And how would you know that?” Snape stared at him with a raised eyebrow.

“You carry the scent of having spent time around potions,” Ginny replied, stepping forward, “as this is a school, the students learn from one such as yourself, Potions Master.”

Harry had to admit, Ginny personifying Selwyn was a tad scary, especially since her voice sounded so imperious, so like royalty. From the information he had read in the book about Merlin and his Knights along with the waking dream Merlin’s influence kept giving him, Selwyn was very much a powerful spellcaster, enough that she almost never had to use her Dreamer powers in any situation.

“And when you were a Dreamer, you would have been able to easily identify your predecessors or anyone else who had carried such power within,” she continued, staring down Snape who actually looked embarrassed enough to not meet her gaze directly and instead stayed silent.

It was only a moment later that Harry realized Lupin was still expecting an answer to his question and looked at the werewolf directly. “To answer your question-“

“Remus Lupin, I am one of two teachers of Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

“-Professor Lupin, we have our doubts and reservations about your war against Grindelwald-“ He heard the gasps of surprise from some of the people in the room as he spoke the Dark Lord’s name and frowned, “and your ignorance in speaking a name that should not be feared has disturbed me greatly. Names should not be shortened to prevent such fear. If you do not name the fear then it will only hold you hostage even more.” He could feel the influence’s distaste at those who had gasped when he said Grindelwald’s name. It mirrored his own feelings, especially when he had to deal with his friends and their fear of saying Voldemort.

“However,” he continued, letting Merlin’s influence color his words, “we will attempt to help you in this endeavor as it seems to me, and the only Dreamer amongst you is you, Professor Lupin. _You_ are the remaining candle of light in such an abysmal lack of faith and hope amongst those in this room.” Harry clamped his mouth shut again; not want he wanted to say, but it was blunt enough and it surprised him that the influence could tell so much when he had no clue how to sort out its feelings from his own. He wondered if there was some way of communicating with the influence to learn how to pick up what it just came out from his own mouth. He wished it was as easy to push away the influence like he had done with the Elder Wand, but somehow knew that it would not be that easy.

He saw the surprised expressions on almost everyone’s faces, including from his friends who were staring at him. He gave them a small shrug, before glancing back at Remus who had a neutral expression on his face. He wondered if the werewolf’s senses were far sharper than his own and could tell the differences between when he was himself and when he was the Dreamer Merlin. He also realized that he did not know the full extent of a Dreamer’s powers and would Lupin, aided by his powers as a Dreamer be able to see through their ruse?

He suddenly felt as if something gentle was brushing his consciousness, a light feather of curiosity and the first thing that popped into his mind was that of baby Teddy Lupin. Harry was puzzled as to why the image appeared in his head when he felt the Dreamer influence take the image away and seemingly put a protective shroud over it. It was then he realized as he looked up at Remus, that he was using his Dreamer powers on them to discern the truth.

It wasn’t as hostile as when Snape tried Legilimens and Harry instinctively knew that he could trust the Remus Lupin of this world if he were to find out their secret. He some now _knew_ that this Dreamer… _the Dreamer of Temperance_ , the influence whispered to him, meant no harm and was only curious about them. But he also did not want Remus finding out so soon that they weren’t who they were and so the influence within him had sought to protect that information even when Remus tried to pluck out the first image in his mind.

He wondered if he could do the same…

And just as suddenly he saw an indistinct image, no it was like watching a movie, except with grainy footage and muffled sound.

“ _-her go, Moony,” James Potter sounded defeated, looking much younger and a brief glance at the calendar spelled out the month as July of 1982. “She’s insisting she goes even though she knows_ he’ll _be there,” he continued._

“ _You can’t dissuade her. She’s brave enough to confront-“_

“ _I don’t care,” James cut off Peter who fell silent and looked elsewhere._

Harry retreated just as fast, feeling as if he was witnessing a private conversation that he knew he shouldn’t have. It was almost as bad as witnessing his father’s torment of Snape in the Pensieve, but this one was directly in his mind, as if he was witnessing it from Lupin’s eyes.

“You are correct, Lord Merlin,” Remus suddenly said in the quiet of the room, startling Harry. He saw a mysterious glint in the werewolf’s eyes and wondered what he had made of the image of Teddy Lupin in his mind. He was sure Remus saw it and felt the emotions he had because he was Teddy’s godfather.

“I am no Lord, nor holder of lands. I am a simple man borne to my mother Ambrosia and raised by her hand. You need not address me as such,” Harry replied, the influence a bit irked at how many people had addressed him as Lord in the past hour.

“So I suppose if we’re helping you guys out,” Ron looked more relaxed as Godric Gryffindor than what Harry knew his best friend was feeling. “I guess we’ll need to see battle plans, troops-“

“They are a school, Godric,” he cut in, letting the influence color his words once more, but made sure that had at least half a mind to not spout off blunt words again, “not an army. And there is only so much we can do for them.”

Ron, no Godric, gave him a pointed look before shrugging, “Fine, whatever, your show.”

Merlin’s influence huffed an annoyed sigh in his mind and he had a feeling that the bickering between him and Godric was nothing new. He turned back to the room, “We will help, but we will not fight this war for you. That is something you must strive for. Find what is you are lacking and you will prevail against Grindelwald and Voldemort.”

A quick glance back at his friends and he saw them nodding their assent. He made it clear that their priority was to get home, but they wouldn’t leave such a world in a lurch. As he looked around the room once more, seeing the smallest sparks of hope appear in some of the people’s eyes, he hoped that he was doing the right thing.

* * *

It was quite late already, well past even his own bedtime as he tilted a mug of firewhiskey around in his hands. Sirius looked at the three others who sat in the room in companionable silence. It was rare that they had the chance to sit together, especially with him splitting time between grading students’ papers and Auror patrols to James always on call by Moody’s orders and to Lupin buried in paperwork or curled up in a corner during the full moon, the Wolfsbane potion having its desired effect but made him more crabby and moody than usual. Peter was busy with his own business, running errands for Dumbledore that even neither he nor James knew about.

Taking a sip, he let the alcohol burn down his throat and glanced at Remus who was absently correcting a rather long parchment. Sirius had a nasty feeling that said parchment belonged to Hermione Granger, who was one of the brightest witches he had ever met, but had a tendency to be as bookish as well – typical Ravenclaw. If she had not been as shy or as worried about her life outside the walls of Hogwarts, he suspected she would have been in Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw.

He himself had another short patrol about to start soon, but right now, he relished the chance of spending time with his friends.

“I thought you were finished with Granger’s parchment over dinner?” Peter asked, fingering the bottom half of the parchment with some surprise.

“I was, but there were a few things I made notes earlier that I wanted to return to and have a second look,” Remus murmured, half distracted before he absently chewed the end of the quill he was using and made yet another mark and a few notes.

“Composing a letter of rebuttal?” James spoke up, his humor few and far between but Sirius knew that James would only reveal his inner most humor to only his friends and no one else. The prankster and jovial man he knew since they were children had died so long ago. It was a rare occasion that James cracked a joke now.

“Shush you,” Remus waved his comments away with the quill, making another note, “it is an utterly fascinating read.”

“Boring,” Sirius dragged out the word, before draining his firewhiskey dry, “come on, just put the damn thing down and talk.”

“About what?” Remus made another mark before a smile appeared on his face and scribbled something before the smile disappeared just as fast as it had appeared.

“I don’t know, something, anything? The Dreamers?” Peter added before hastily clapping his own mouth shut, “sorry.”

Sirius glared at Peter and resisted the urge to shake his head like an adult scolding a misbehaving child. “Idiot,” he muttered. The Dreamers was a touchy topic amongst their group, especially considering James’ position.

“I’m…glad,” James suddenly spoke up, and Sirius nearly dropped his mug. He was only relieved that it fell into his lap instead of crashing to the ground. He gaped at James and noted that even Remus and Peter were staring at their sullen friend, shock on their faces.

“Prongs?” he ventured carefully. There were times when James would suddenly burst into fits of rage, throwing out hexes and curses to the point where they had to physically restrain him, or even burst out crying the next minute. Occasionally he would transform into his namesake Animagus form and charge at the walls, trying to tear through something and he and Peter would have to calm him down with their Animagus forms.

James didn’t look at them and instead was staring at his mug, still half-full of firewhiskey. Sirius noted that Remus had finally set Granger’s parchment down and was staring at their friend with an intense gaze. He wondered what their resident werewolf was doing when he _felt_ the effects of magic exuding from Remus. It had been so long since he had _felt_ that particular magic from Remus that he had almost forgotten what a Dreamer’s powers felt like when they activated it.

During the Order meeting when they were reintroduced to Merlin and his Knights he had felt a sliver of power from Remus, but now, it was released in a much more saturated environment and Sirius stayed silent, unconsciously holding his breath. He himself was never a Dreamer so he did not know the nuances of what was in a Dreamer’s powers, but he knew that each Dreamer power varied from person to person.

Remus, as the Dreamer of Temperance, was gifted with the ability to sense and perceive more than truths from others. He also had a way with animals and other creatures and was able to command significant defensive spells that calmed others down while bolstering mental defenses against creatures like Dementors, Inferi, or even the fearsome Faydes.

“I don’t…” Remus murmured quietly before his brows wrinkled in concern, “James, you didn’t even chose an heir!”

“What, what?” Peter looked back and forth, confused and Sirius shoved him slightly in the shoulder to shut him up.

“There’s only a residual power left in him, otherwise, Courage has left him,” Remus looked at James, a stricken expression on his face, “you didn’t even choose an heir!”

“I don’t get it,” Peter whined.

“Before a Dreamer can give up his or her powers,” Remus rubbed his eyes, “they need to choose an heir. Otherwise, that Dreamer power be… It would unbalance the magical world as we know it if a Dreamer does not declare an heir to their power.”

“Wait, you need to declare it?” now Sirius was confused.

“No, you don’t have to, but each Dreamer has a magical marker within them that can be identified as to who they passed their powers on to or who they got it from,” he replied before heaving a loud sigh, “James…what did you do?”

It was a moment later that James looked up at them, “I gave it to the person that needed the most…”

“Oh no…” Sirius knew exactly who James gave his powers to, “but…isn’t that impossible? I mean, wouldn’t Godric Gryffindor II have his own powers already?”

He saw James exchange a significant look with Remus and wondered what he was missing. Remus pursed his lips and looked at both Peter and him with serious brown eyes. “I would make you guys take a wizard oath, but I believe you guys wouldn’t tell anyone else.”

“What…what is it?” Peter looked apprehensive.

“I believe that Merlin and his Knights are not who they claim to be,” Remus said in a grave tone and Sirius felt his heart contract slightly in both fear and the hope drain out of him.

He had wished so strongly that with the help of Merlin and his Knights at Hogwarts that they would be able to help turn the tide of war. What Remus was saying…it stabbed at him. He had wanted to believe the young man that looked so eerily like James; wanted to believe that it wasn’t Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, or even Ron Weasley’s doppelgangers that had stood before them and declared at they were Merlin’s Knights. He had felt hope fill him as Merlin declared that he and his Knights would help them in the war, to defeat Grindelwald and Voldemort. To defeat the Dark Lord and Black King.

“They’re Death Eaters, aren’t they?” Peter whispered sullenly.

“No,” Remus’ sharp tone made him glance back up at his friend, “they are most certainly not. I do not know who they really are, but I could _feel_ a pull on my powers from them. They are most certainly Dreamers, but whether they had taken the persona of Merlin and his Knights is up to their powers. I do not know who they really are, but they _are_ the heirs of the Virtues of Man that had long abandoned us. It’s as if the Weavers themselves chose them to help us.”

“You’re joking,” Sirius knew most of the Dreamer lore and knew that intoning about the Weavers was not a thing to be taken lightly. The Weavers Council was the fabled ruling body of the Dreamers and Sirius had likened them to the Greek myths of the Fates. He did not know if the Weavers were as real as the Dreamers, but if Remus believed in them, then who was he to argue against it. “You’re not joking,” he mumbled as he noticed that their werewolf friend was staring at him with a serious face.

“Do you know if the _others_ ,” he dared not mention Lily or Snape in front of James’ presence, “can sense the same thing?”

“I’ll ask Minerva tomorrow in the staff meeting, but I believe Albus has already sensed it which is why I think he agreed with this earlier, otherwise, he would have sent all of the Aurors out to deal with them. As for the… _others_ ,” even Remus avoided James’ gaze when he said the word, “I do not know.”

“I…can ask,” Peter treaded carefully.

Remus nodded before Sirius glanced at his watch and noted that he was at least five minutes late from relieving Marius Sadow from his patrol duty. “I’m late,” he grumbled as he got up and placed his empty mug on a small end table, “sorry to run out like this but…Remus, you really sure?”

“They can be trusted, yes,” Remus nodded and Sirius mulled it over before shrugging. Before he headed out of the teachers’ common room, he glanced at James who looked like he had retreated back into his shell once more. Shaking his head, he hoped that whatever his best friend did, it was worth it.

* * *

“It wasn’t supposed to happen this way,” he wailed as he floated around the halls of Hogwarts.

“It is done, do not speak further of it.”

“Our will is the absolute. Shall you question it further?”

“No,” he replied quietly, chastened, “but this will hurt them…”

“This is war, sacrifices must be made.”

“This is torture. They will not abide by your rules.”

“They will or they will suffer the consequences.”

“Have you no heart?”

“They are the last, best hope we have…”

‘They are _children_ …”

“They are soldiers.”

“I sincerely hope you know what you have done.”

“Is that a threat Perevell?”

“They will find out and they will rebel.”

“They will do as they are told because they believe it.”

“I warn you now…there will come a time you will regret what you have done. The Weavers Council is not all powerful. The Boy-Who-Lived and his friends are beyond your grasp. You will know…”

“Be gone from our sight…”


	6. Influences

“How the hell do I get rid of this stupid…influence or whatever the hell it is?!” Ron shouted as soon as the door slammed closed in the Room of Requirement. “I tried to mentally fight it like you told us to Harry, but it’s not working!”

Harry sat on the edge of his bed, watching Ron rant, tossing his robe onto a trunk at the foot of his bed before grabbing at his hair in frustration. Neville had opted to take a seat on one the couches, also staring at Ron as he grabbed at his hair and paced around while Hermione completely ignored her ranting boyfriend and took another couch with Ginny who only rolled her eyes.

“I don’t really know,” Harry shrugged, feeling helpless in the situation. “I just…mentally shove it away some how. I mean, it’s like negotiating, I guess…” He trailed off; feeling as he had just babbled instead of made any sense to what Ron was feeling. “Anyone?”

Neville and Hermione both shook their heads. “I can’t complain,” Hermione shrugged, “Rowena has an extensive knowledge that I feel she is helping me more than hindering. I guess I let her come and go as she pleases if that’s any help.”

“That’s no help,” Ron growled.

“Thanks, Ron,” Hermione glared at him with a flat expression.

“Sorry,” he muttered a hasty reply before glancing at Neville who shrank slightly into the couch. “Well?”

“I don’t really know. I mean, I was pretty quiet during the meeting…and I think Nathan Hufflepuff, or at least the Dreamer of Justice is too. I mean, I didn’t really feel too much of an ‘influence’ if you want to call it at that. It was like something was hovering at the edge of my mind, not really controlling me, but not really there either. It was there for me to take and use if I wanted to. I mean, I had these dreams last night and one during the meeting of a battlefield, but I think Nathan, or the Dreamer is trying to teach me, to let me decide if I want to use this…power…”

Neville fell silent, glancing furtively at the crackling fireplace and Harry blinked in surprise. He wondered was each of their Dreamers and respective persona, or influences, acting differently within them? It would make sense, as not all magical entities were created to react the same in each person. If each Dreamer’s powers were unique to the user and each influence within the Dreamer was unique, why not have differences in the way each handled their…host for lack of a better word.

“Sounds like a parasite,” he muttered mostly to himself before he _felt_ the influence that was the Dreamer, or was it Merlin, push at him in a manner that said it was hurt by his comments. Harry instantly felt a bit sorry for his comments and then wondered if there was a way to communicate with whatever was influencing him.

_All you had to do was ask,_ came the thought in his head and he blinked in surprise before realizing that Ginny was talking.

“It’s like possession,” Ginny whispered her voice emotionless and Harry instantly knew what she was talking about. He shuddered slightly, remembering how obsessed he was with the Half-Blood Prince’s book and how Ginny had saved him from being consumed by it. But compared to what she went through her first year at Hogwarts, she would be the best to understand what was going on with all of them.

“Ginny?” Ron stopped his pacing as soon as the words emerged from his sister’s mouth and looked at her with concern.

“The first time I felt it, I couldn’t control it,” she looked at them, her eyes hooded, “it was in the Headmaster’s office when we were talking with Sirius, your father, and Mad-Eye. As soon as I had said Merlin’s name, I felt something take over my mind, filling my head with information that I never knew about Selwyn; I instantly knew her history, her background, where her father and twelve brothers and sisters were. I knew her deepest secrets and her greatest fears. I knew who she was…and somehow, I think she knew who I was.

“I hated it. I wanted to scream and talk when she started to introduce herself. I wanted to shout to them who I really was, but it was as if Selwyn had possessed all of my motor functions and I was just along for the ride. I could see what was happening, but I couldn’t do anything about it,” Ginny continued and Harry stiffened.

What she had described…it was almost like the time Voldemort had forced his consciousness into his own body, possessing him, demanding that Dumbledore kill him at the Ministry of Magic.

“Did it hurt?” the words came tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop it and he saw his friends look at him in concern. He had never told any of his friends of what had happened in the atrium of the Ministry. It was a secret only he and Dumbledore knew about and the Headmaster had taken it to the grave with him when he died.

“No,” Ginny looked at him, and shook her head, “it didn’t, but as soon as Sirius and the others left, I could feel it releasing me all at once, retreating to somewhere I couldn’t sense or feel.”

“That’s…scary,” Ron looked grim.

“During the night, I think I had a dream. I was in a glade of sorts and I think I saw Selwyn. She and I talked… She told me that she was not really Selwyn, but the embodiment of the Dreamer that bonded to me when we arrived in this world and chose an avatar to protect me from those who would harm us. I think she then apologized and told me that I could call on her when I felt like it, but otherwise, she would leave me alone.

“During the meeting, I didn’t feel like she was possessing me again, but it felt like a mutual agreement of sorts. I think she or rather, the Dreamer knows of my previous experience with such a thing…and was ashamed of being so forceful earlier…” Ginny trailed off, staring at the ground as Hermione hugged her.

“So it’s alive then?” Ron looked utterly confused.

“Not in the way we perceive it. From what I can remember and from what…’Selwyn-Dreamer’ told me, it is a part of this world. They have been adrift for a while, looking for someone worthy to bond to help them.”

Harry narrowed his eyes, “That can’t be coincidence then…”

“We don’t know that,” Ginny looked at him, “but you said we would help because you hate to see a world like this.”

“Isn’t our priority to get home? I mean Mum and Dad could be going spare right now because we’re not there! It’s been two days! They probably think we’ve been captured or killed by rogue Death Eaters or something,” Ron scratched the back of his head.

“I…want to help,” Neville interrupted in a soft voice, making everyone look at him, “I…my Mum…I…”

Harry understood where Neville was coming from. “I feel the same way, Neville,” he nodded at the shy Gryffindor before looking at Ron, “I know, we need to get back as soon as possible, but we don’t even know where to begin. Its fine that Dumbledore wants to help us to get home, but I think we can benefit if the other members of the Order also get involved. I mean, my Mum-“

“That’s right! Your Mum was a Muggle so she may know more about this type of magic or dimensional travel thing than I do! I’ll talk to her to see what we can do,” Hermione cut through him, her eyes brightening in anticipation of another project to work on.

“Ginny,” Harry was glad that Neville looked happier and Hermione looked positively ecstatic at the prospect of another project; but focused his attention on his girlfriend, “you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she gave him a small private smile, the same one that always made his heart beat just a hair faster, “I think my Dreamer and I are in agreement…”

“Good because can I ask you to ask Professor Lupin more about the Dreamers? Merlin, or rather, my own Dreamer, identified him as the last Dreamer in the room, Temperance I think, of the Virtues of Man, and since the history books don’t mention anything…”

She nodded, “Don’t worry, I’ll ask him.”

“It still doesn’t help me,” Ron grumbled, “how do I tell Godric to stop pissing everyone off? I mean, it’s not as easy as saying ‘sod off’ to him when he’s able to take over your body and stuff.”

“Talk to him in a dream?”

“Thanks sis, that’s really helpful,” Ron shot back sarcastically before crawling under his bed covers and turned away from them, “bloody great help you lot are!”

Harry suppressed a snort of laughter before grabbing his pajamas and headed to the attached restroom to change into his nightclothes. He emerged a few minutes later to see Hermione, Ginny, and Neville’s heads buried in the mounds of books that had started to pile up around the fireplace once more; except this time Ginny was reading the book on Merlin and his Knights.

“You sleeping soon?” he asked them.

“Soon, I just want to,” Neville suppressed a wide yawn with one hand, “read some more.”

“Same here,” Ginny murmured, “don’t worry about us, Harry. Get some sleep.” She tilted her head, her eyes unfocused for a brief moment before a grin worked its way up her face. “Selwyn says that as Merlin, you’ve done well with negotiations.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at her as he felt the influence that was Merlin in the back of his mind preen a bit with the praise. He still wasn’t too sure about his influence or anything, but vowed to hopefully meet this mysterious Merlin-Dreamer in a dream tonight.

“G’night Ginny.”

“’Night Harry.”

* * *

_The battlefield was hot, putrid, and the smell of animals and magical creatures stank up the already trampled grass, but Merlin didn’t care as he scoured the area, eyes set and intent on finding the person responsible for this. The rumbles of distant explosions shook the ground he stood on, but he stalked forward, undeterred._

_Finally his eyes found his target. Her hair was wild and whipped around in an unseen tornado surrounding her, blazing magic arcing across her fingers. She laughed, high and giddy, a sadistic laugh before she blasted a poor centaur into pieces who was trying to help his companion up._

“ _Protego!” he shouted, firing his spell at the remaining centaur who was trying to feebly crawl away, and the lightning spell bounced off of his shield before her eyes caught his and she gave him a malevolent smile._

“ _What have you done with Salazar?!” he screamed at Morgana, feeling a trickle of blood slide down from his cheek and into his mouth, but he didn’t care as he glared at the sorceress._

“ _Silly boy…he’s forever mine,” she cackled madly, her hands alive with electricity that arced around her body._

_He cursed silently as he dived towards the ground, away from the first bolt of electricity singed the ground where he had been standing. The dirt and rocks showered around him before he pointed his wand at her and fired a spell. “Coronum!”_

_The spell bounced off of the shield she had conjured with her hands before she made a gesture with a flick of her wrist. His eyes widened and he moved but he was too late. His wand flew out of his hands and the spell caught him in the stomach like a kick in the gut. He barely made a gesture to ward off the second spell and heard a noise surround him as if a gong had been sounded._

_Merlin knew he was never really good with hand spells, and preferred to use his wand as his focal point, but Morgana…no she had mastered hand spells as well as controlling the unseen powers of a sorceress. He steadied his right hand. “Sempra!” he shouted before a blazing light burst from his right hand and shot towards the evil sorceress._

“ _Where is he!” he yelled again, advancing towards her. If he went for his wand, he knew that she would be able to get him easily. She easily brushed his spell aside and laughed._

“ _What, poor little Merlin is missing his dear, dear friend?! You don’t even like the brat!” she giggled, her hands elongating into thin sticks before she fired wooden arrows from them._

_Merlin ducked again, wincing a bit as one of the bolts nicked his arm, but he continued to advance. He conjured a blast of water and sent it forth when she suddenly waved her wrist and a crackling whip of fire emerged from the skies, slicing the water in half and sending steam into the air. He leapt off of a rock as the whip came crashing down and landed on his knees._

_Grunting in pain, he twisted around and barely conjured up a shield to prevent the whip from slicing him in half or setting him on fire._

“ _I,” she gave him a wild laugh, “am doing you a favor Merlin. You wanted Salazar out of there, so I did you the favor. Now…he can come into his true potential.”_

“ _Don’t you dare!” he held his shield aloft as more whips appeared and crashed down upon him, “You will not have a chance to turn him into an abomination of a Dreamer!”_

“ _Merlin!” the distant cry of Godric cost him his concentration and one of the whips lanced into his chest, making him cry out and fall to the ground, his shield fading away. His chest burned as magical fire erupted on his clothes and he rolled onto his chest to put it out when the next whip slashed across his back twice, making him arc painfully before he smelled the acrid stink of burnt skin and hair._

“ _Aguamentus!” booted feet appeared in his blurred field of vision before water poured over him and he hissed as they made contact with the marks the whip left behind. “Sempra-maximus!” Godric hollered across him and he distantly heard the yelp of pain from Morgana, but by then the pain was too great and he felt himself falling into blackness._

“ _Merlin…Merlin!” he heard his half-brother Godric shouting him, his voice mingled with others…_

“ _Merlin! Come on!” even Selwyn’s voice was starting to fade as he passed out. His last thought was of Salazar…how they had failed…_

_I’m sorry Sal…_

* * *

Harry felt someone shaking him and blinked his eyes open, the smell of the battlefield retreating into his mind once more. “Harry! Harry!” Ginny’s frantic voice made him sit up with a start and he looked around, wary for an attack of sorts.

“Oh Harry…thank Merlin you’re fine,” the relief was palpable and he looked at her, startled to see Selwyn’s features settle over hers before he blinked again and she had returned to the same old red-headed girl he knew.

“Wha…what happened?” he ran a hand through his hair, shocked that he was covered in sweat.

“You were tossing in your sleep…so was Ron, both of you looked like you were under convulsions of sorts,” Ginny stepped back and he glanced over to Ron’s bed to see him look groggily up at Hermione who also had a frantic and worried expression on her face. Neville stood between their beds with a bowl of water ready to splash on them.

“Ron…” Hermione whispered, a hand hesitantly reaching out to touch his cheek as Harry looked at Ginny and mutely shook his head.

“A dream…” he rubbed his eyes, “battlefield…against Morgana Le Faye I think…I was looking for…”

“Salazar, we were looking for Salazar, the stupid git,” Ron muttered next to him, sitting up slowly, “Morgana almost trapped Merlin, but I…no Godric was able to save him in time. We…retreated…and I think you passed out on the way.”

“The Dreamers?” Neville ventured a guess, placing the bowl of water down.

“But why?” Harry wondered, “This is the second time I’ve had a dream about the battlefield. The first one was with Uther Pendrag…”

Ron snorted, “If this is the message Godric wanted to send, I’m out of here. I do not want to experience something like that again.”

“Ron, I don’t think that was the message he was trying to send,” Hermione patted his blankets, “I don’t really think Godric or rather, the Dreamer of Courage is trying to scare you in any way or even possess you – no offense Ginny.”

“None taken,” Ginny shrugged.

“I think it doesn’t know what to do…”

“It appears you, Mr. Weasley was caught up in a dream that was meant for Mr. Potter only,” Neville suddenly spoke up, but it wasn’t his voice coming from his mouth, but rather it was a deep, cultured tone. Harry nearly jumped at the voice and stared at Neville and blinked as he seemingly saw an overlapping image of Nathan Hufflepuff just hanging over Neville’s own face.

Just as suddenly, the image disappeared and Neville looked at them like he had just woken up from a deep sleep.

“Neville?” Harry ventured a guess.

“Sorry about that…I figured maybe Nathan, or rather the Dreamer personifying Nathan would have more information,” Neville looked sheepish before hurrying to the table where a hot plate of breakfast foods was waiting for them.

“Wait, Neville, can Nathan tell us how we could communicate or even learn about the Dreamer powers that we got?” Hermione called over and Harry saw Neville furrow his brow for a few minutes before he shook his head.

“I don’t think he knows the answer. He says that he is to aide us, that is the purpose of a Dreamer. I didn’t know magic was sentient, but he says that he isn’t, he just is,” the Gryffindor shrugged before digging into a plate of eggs.

“I’m confused,” Ron raised his hand and Harry had to agree with his best friend. Maybe it would be better if they asked Remus about the Dreamer powers…he would know more than they did and much more than what the books Hermione had them looking had gave.

“Any idea why you’re having such dreams?” Ginny spoke up quietly next to him as he swung out of bed and grabbed some clean clothes to wash and change into. It was then that he noticed that they needed money for more robes, other clothes, and fresh underclothes if they were going to stay here for a while.

“No idea,” he replied, “I mean, I don’t think Merlin used any Dreamer powers, but then again, I don’t really know how it would feel. It’s not like the visions I had with Voldemort, it just feels different…something I can’t put my finger on.” He closed the door to the bathroom and quickly showered and changed before heading back out and sat down at the table.

Everyone save for Neville was already eating, their fellow Gryffindor finished his meal and now was reading another one of the books Hermione had gotten for them, except he noticed that it was on plants. He didn’t question why Neville had a book on plants and herbs, knowing that he loved anything to do with Herbology.

“Fawkes left us a bag of coins this morning. There was a note that said we could spend it at Hogsmeade to get some new robes and other supplies we may need,” Hermione started up and both Ron and Ginny looked up in surprise.

“I don’t know…it feels…”

“Wrong…” Ginny finished up for her brother, “feels like we owe Dumbledore something.”

“Actually it wasn’t signed with Dumbledore’s handwriting,” Hermione replied before showing them the note. Harry leaned closer to Ginny to get a look at the note along with Ron and wrinkled his brows in confusion. It wasn’t the loopy script he was used to seeing from Dumbledore. It looked more like a scribble than anything else.

“I don’t recognize it,” he glanced at Ron and Ginny who also shook their heads and sat back before looking at Hermione, “you sure it was Fawkes this morning?”

“Positive,” Hermione nodded.

“I still feel bad about spending it…I mean…” Ron trailed off, his ears turning a bit pink.

As if the mysterious person who had sent them the money was thinking along their lines, Fawkes suddenly flamed into existence in the middle of their table, startling Ginny who nearly spilled her juice and dropped another piece of parchment in the middle of the table before trilling a note and flaming away once more.

Ginny leaned over and hesitantly picked it up and read it, her eyes wide with surprise. “It says, ‘don’t worry about repaying the money and don’t tell Dumbledore.’”

“Don’t tell Dumbledore? That’s odd,” Hermione mumbled mostly to herself before shrugging, “we do need some extra clothes. I am carrying some of the supplies we had while we were on the run, but not all of it. And it would be good to get some robes for ourselves. I mean, it would look odd if we went to the Great Hall in our regular clothes at the moment, being Merlin’s Knights and all.”

“I’ll come with you,” Ginny piped up, “I want to see how different is it in Hogsmeade.”

“Take the cloak,” Harry cautioned.

“Harry, we’re not stealing things from Hogsmeade!”

“I meant when you’re traveling in between Hogsmeade and Hogwarts. If there is a second Ministry established here it means Dumbledore’s expecting to be attacked. Besides, we all read about the various attacks on Hogsmeade. I don’t want to take any chances,” he explained.

“All right,” Ginny grabbed the cloak from on top of his trunk, “we’ll be careful. What will you boys be doing?”

“Seeing if Professor Lupin can explain more about the Dreamers,” Neville looked up from his plant book.

“Same here,” Ron interjected quickly before Hermione could open her mouth to suggest someone stay and continue reading up on the history of this world or even about Merlin and his Knights.

“Harry-“

“I need to see Dumbledore,” Harry shrugged apologetically at Hermione, but did not feel that apologetic.

“Wait, then one of you should take the cloak,” Ginny frowned.

“Neville and I can blend in…” Ron gave them a rueful smile, “at least I hope.”

“I’ve got the Map,” Harry gestured to his moleskin bag that held the Marauder’s Map, “we’ll be fine.”

“What time do we need to be back here?” Hermione still looked unsure, but seemed to give up on pestering them to take the cloak.

“I think Dumbledore said before lunch? Probably just in the Great Hall though,” Neville replied.

“All right then, we’ll meet back here around eleven-thirty and then head down,” Hermione tapped her wand onto her watch and muttered a few words, “there, I’ve set an alarm to eleven so we have enough time to head back from Hogsmeade.”

Ginny just nodded as if it was common occurrence and it occurred to Harry that the reason why Hermione was always punctual or even early to events was because she had set her own alarm clock on her watches. Glancing over at Ron he cracked a grin as he saw his best friend roll his eyes in mock horror before going back to finishing his own breakfast.

As Harry dug back into his own meal, he fervently hoped that this time, he would be able to talk to the Headmaster properly.

* * *

Hermione and Ginny left for Hogsmeade with the bag of coins under the cloak about half an hour after they had finished breakfast and Harry noted the time to be around ten o’clock. He, Ron, and Neville were standing just outside the entrance to the Room of Requirements, the hallway devoid and empty of any students, teachers, or Aurors before he pulled out the Marauder’s Map from his moleskin bag.

Tapping it, he whispered, “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.”

The map stayed blank.

Harry frowned and tapped it once more, “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.”

The map continued to stay blank and a thread of worry crept over him. If the Marauder’s Map from their world did not work in this one…there was no way they could anticipate who was coming and who was going.

“This is bad…” Neville whispered, “what do we do now?”

“I still need to see Dumbledore,” Harry did not want to delay his meeting and glanced up and down the corridor, “maybe I can ask the Headmaster to borrow Fawkes so he can get you guys to the staff room or something.”

“No…we’ll manage,” Ron shook his head, “besides, if we run into any Aurors or teachers, maybe they’ll think we’re really Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom of this world…”

“You sure?” Harry was sure that if they ran into any of the Order members then they would be fine. But he was more worried if they ran into some of the Aurors like Barty Crouch Jr. or even the Aurors that didn’t know of their existence yet. Based on the mood of the room and the history they had read, he had a feeling the Aurors were on a hex-first-ask-questions-later policy.

“Yeah, worst comes to worst, we’ll hide in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. No one goes in there,” Ron cracked and Harry smiled before he realized another thing he had to ask Dumbledore about, the Chamber of Secrets.

“Be careful if you do hide in there,” he cautioned.

“Harry, what’s gotten into you?” Ron looked at him curiously.

“We don’t know if the Chamber has been opened or not in this world,” he stared at them and saw the slight hint of fear pass through his best friend’s features while Neville gulped audibly.

“Oh…bugger you’re right,” Ron looked uneasy, “maybe we’ll avoid that bathroom then… Fifth floor prefect’s bathroom?”

“Probably a better idea,” he replied.

“Careful then mate, we’ll see you in about an hour or so,” he and Neville turned and headed down the opposite end of the corridor while Harry nodded his goodbye and set off the other end.

Each step he took he kept his eyes and ears out for any signs of patrolling Aurors or even wandering students and ducked behind a few suits of armor the minute he thought he heard something. He chided himself occasionally, feeling more and more like Mad-Eye Moody for jumping at any sounds, but he did not want anyone finding him before Dumbledore made the right introductions. It also disturbed him that the Marauder’s Map did not work in this world. He wondered if there was an equivalent in this world that maybe prevented the magicks in his map not to work.

Twice Harry was almost caught by two patrols of Aurors and hid behind suits of armor. The first time he had seen the lead Auror look around curiously, almost puzzled before continuing on her patrol, the two other Aurors flanking her without a single word. The second time he noticed the lead Auror was none other than Marion Sadow. She had stared at the particular suit of armor he was hiding behind for the longest time that he thought she was going to give him away before she seemingly shook her head at him and continued on, ignoring her fellow Aurors’ questions.

He finally made it to the gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster’s office and realized he did not know the password. He considered spouting off random candies that he knew Dumbledore liked and opened his mouth to say “Lemon Drops” when he suddenly felt the influence that was Merlin fill his mind and his body reacted even before he knew what was happening.

He dived to the side just as a red light flew past where he used to stand and he drew out his wand, his senses immediately on alert. “ _Stupefy!_ ” he pointed his wand at the Auror who was charging at him, wand drawn and saw it bounce off a shield he had conjured up, the hood of his cloak falling away to reveal the irate face of Barty Crouch Jr.

“ _Impedimenta!_ ” Crouch yelled and Harry rolled to his feet, the ground exploding beneath him.

“ _Expelliarmus!_ ” he pushed Merlin's influence away as his spell hit Crouch's arm and his wand flew out of his hand. Harry advanced forward, his anger filling him at what Crouch had done to him in his fourth year. He should hex him until he was nothing but a blob-

“What's going on here?!” his father's voice bellowed through the hallway and Harry froze, wand pointed at Crouch's face as he saw his father and several Aurors rushing up the stairs.

That was the opportunity Crouch needed and Harry suddenly found his own wand partially wrenched from his grip and himself pinned against the man's thin body, wand pointed at his throat. “Don't even think of moving, Death Eater,” Crouch's harsh breath breathed into his ear as he fought against the choking grip he held him in.

“Crouch! Let him go!” his father did not sound at all like the defeated man he was yesterday and instead his voice was as hard and Harry heard real anger in them.

“He's a Death Eater, that's who he is!” Crouch tightened his grip and Harry gasped, feeling his breath come in shorter gasps.

“That's Merlin you sodding idiot!” there was a flurry of movement that he could barely see with his glasses askew and half of Crouch's arm covering his vision, but suddenly the pressure was released from his neck and he fell forward and stumbled a bit before regaining his footing.

He turned around and massaged his neck as he straightened his glasses and glared at Crouch who was staring at him with thin lips. “He doesn't look like him,” Crouch muttered as James bent down to pick up his dropped wand and hand it back to him.

“Thanks,” he muttered as he took the proffered wand, all the while staring at Crouch, daring him to do anything that would betray his Death Eater origins.

“Sir!” Marion's voice made him turn slightly to see the darkly beautiful Auror running towards them, the two other Aurors who were with her also quickening their pace.

“Potter here thinks this is Merlin,” Crouch brushed himself off and looked at her.

“He has been wrong on occasion...Potter thinks everyone is something,” Marion's tone was acidic and the look she threw at James was one of pure malevolent hate. He knew that somehow, there was a battle of wills and wondered if this was what Sirius, his father, and Moody were talking about yesterday. During the meeting last night, Marion had seemed courteous enough and had not given any indication that she hated James Potter, but her reaction to him...

The realization of what Marion was belted him in the head. His father had been adamant that Marion was loyal...and he wondered if he meant Marion was loyal to the Order instead of to Crouch. There were definite factions, judging from the animosity between his father and Crouch. Perhaps she was acting?

He felt himself involuntarily straighten as she stared at him, her icy blue eyes seemingly seeing right through him. She was frightening in that respect...and immediately felt Merlin's influence fill him once more.

“I believe proper introductions are in order,” Harry felt his own body bow slightly to Crouch and fumed. He wanted to push away the influence, but felt it say _caution_ in his mind. He needed to be cautious...he couldn't blow anyone's cover, nor reveal that he had already been introduce to James or Marion.

“I would have presumed Headmaster Dumbledore to have told Mr. Moody's Aurors about my companions and me, but I see Moody has neglected to tell you. I am Merlin, and you are...?”

“Bartemius Crouch Jr.,” Crouch continued to glare at him, “and these are my Aurors. Potter and his little ragged band kiss up to Moody.”

“Don't you dare-”

“I'll see how I dare if you want to take it up with Dumbledore,” Crouch shot back at James and Harry saw his father fall silent, still angry, but the worn look he had creeping back into his features.

“You are quite skilled Mr. Crouch,” Harry held up his hand to stop whatever Crouch was going to say and wondered what Merlin was up to, “but I believe attacking everything on sight is not productive to students or their safety. If I had been a student hoping to see the Headmaster with a concern about a teacher or even the curriculum, then I believe I would've been in the hospital wing or worst, perhaps dead. How would you explain the death of a student on your hands?”

“Accidents happen,” Crouch muttered, looking away as Harry noted out of the corner of his eyes his father and the Aurors following him were trying to hold in their laughter at his reaming of Auror. He dared not look at Marion just in case he blew her cover.

“Yes, but the lives of those you are supposed to protect are not an accident. They are filled with life and are the breath and hope of the future. Any good Auror, Knight, or Commander of a group fighting for the freedom of oppression should know that to kill a mere child or student would be devastating to morale if it were to be found out,” Harry continued, wondering what Merlin was getting at.

“Morale’s already lost,” Crouch’s lips barely moved, but Harry heard his words anyways and he frowned.

“Are you this pessimistic or just looking for another fight?” he could feel Merlin’s annoyance at Crouch and mentally shrugged an ‘I told you so’ to the influence.

That got Crouch’s attention once more and he shook his head at seeing the surprised expression flit across his face before he closed it down into something that he could not recognize.

Harry sighed, huffing loudly to proclaim his annoyance and crossed his arms across his chest. He had a feeling Merlin was enjoy making Crouch squirm just a little too much at the moment. He mentally sent an urge to the influence to stop using his body and to focus on other things, like perhaps seeing Dumbledore. The influence apparently got the message as it shook his head.

“See to it that you do not make the same mistake again,” he brushed past Crouch and headed back to the gargoyle as Merlin released his influence over him and he laughed inwardly.

However, it still left him back at square one. The password to get into Dumbledore's office...

“It's Chocolate Frogs,” he heard his father whisper in his ear before he went past him, continuing on his patrol as the rest of the Aurors scattered to continue their patrols.

“Chocolate Frogs,” he said to the gargoyle who stepped aside and he headed up the stairs to the Headmaster's office. Now he knew for sure that he needed to warn Dumbledore of the spies within his Ministry.


	7. Introducing Legends

Harry advanced up the steps to the Headmaster, no Minister of Magic’s office and knocked on the door. A few seconds passed before Dumbledore’s command of enter came and he opened the door and stepped in.

“Ah, Harry, what can I do for you?” Dumbledore looked up from a pile of parchments at least two fists thick and for the first time Harry noted how worn down Dumbledore looked in this world. He had the responsibility of both being a Minister of Magic and being Headmaster of Hogwarts on his shoulders and Harry felt a bit sorry for him.

“Well Professor-erm, is it all right that I call you Professor?”

“That’s fine,” Dumbledore gestured for him to take a seat and held out a tin, “lemon drops?”

“No thank you,” he replied shaking his head, “I was wondering if I could talk to you regarding a few Aurors and people in particular in this world.”

“Ah,” Dumbledore nodded before picking up his wand and pointing it at the door, “ _Silencio_.” He pursed his lips for a second before putting his wand back down and pushed the stack of papers aside, “There, now we have no fear of anyone listening in. Now, Harry what’s on your mind.”

“Barty Crouch Jr.,” Harry immediately said, “and Snape…Pettigrew…”

“Bartemius Crouch Jr. is a fine Auror and one of the two heads of the Magical Law Enforcement, might I add. He was a brilliant student when he enrolled at Hogwarts-“

“He’s a Death Eater…or at least he was a Death Eater in my world,” he blurted out, cutting Dumbledore off, “he… There was the Triwizard Tournament in my fourth year and he entered my name into it making me compete against three other students. At the last task, I and another student, Cedric Diggory-“

“A good student, wonderful at Transfiguration.”

“-were transported to The Riddle Manor where Voldemort was revived in a ceremony. I…” Harry grimaced, his hand unconsciously rubbing the scar that Wormtail had given him when he performed the ceremony to revive Voldemort, “later found out Crouch had taken Polyjuice Potion to impersonate Mad-Eye Moody and changed the Triwizard Cup into a portkey to take me to the manor.”

“I see…” Dumbledore looked down at him gravely, “and what did happen to Mr. Crouch?”

“Dementor’s Kiss,” Harry murmured quietly, “Cornelius Fudge who was the Minister of Magic at that time allowed a Dementor to give him the Kiss.”

“Let me see if I can piece this together Harry,” the Headmaster tugged his beard, “your parents died in your world on October 31st, 1981 and yet you survived because the Killing Curse from Voldemort rebounded and he died?”

“Sort of,” Harry nodded, wondering if he should mention that Voldemort survived in a half-human like state due to his Horcruxes, but decided against it, “he was only half-alive and needed either a host body or blood of a unicorn to survive.”

“Ah…I wonder why neither the Minister of Magic nor my counterpart hunted him down,” Dumbledore tugged his beard some more and Harry blinked, a bit surprised to hear such words come from his mouth.

“I believe,” he started hesitantly; “it was because no one realized he was still alive until my first year. We found out he was using Professor Quirrell as a host body…he fled and no one believed he was alive until my fourth year with the Triwizard Tournament.”

“And then they believed?”

“Not at first sir,” to Harry it felt like such a long time ago, but it had been nearly three years since his fifth year, “it was only after my fifth year that the Ministry believed Voldemort to be back.”

“Idiots, incompetence,” he looked up to see Dumbledore glaring down at no spot in particular, a pinched look on his face.

“Sir?”

“My apologies Harry,” Dumbledore wiped the look from his face, “so you say Barty Crouch Jr. was a Death Eater in your world? Thank you for this information Harry…I will definitely keep a closer eye on our friend. You also mentioned Professor Snape and Peter Pettigrew?”

“Pettigrew, or Wormtail, was the one who betrayed my parents to Voldemort. He was their Secret Keeper…” even though he felt sorry that Wormtail had died in the basement of the Malfoy Manor, he still did not feel too much remorse for the traitor.

“Hmm…” Dumbledore looked thoughtful, “that is utterly fascinating. I myself do not know the details, but I can tell you your parents in this world were attacked on Halloween of 1981. I will have to question Mr. Pettigrew. Perhaps he knows the details or perhaps I _do_ have a spy within my Order. Now, what is this about Professor Snape?”

“Well sir,” Harry started but then faltered. How did he explain to Dumbledore the complexities of who Severus Snape was in his world? Lily Potter was most certainly alive in this world…and… “Is my mother having an affair with Snape?” the words tumbled out of his mouth, but he realized it was what he wanted to ask.

Dumbledore’s eyes grew darkened slightly and he pursed his lips for a second before sitting back. “Judging from your tone and your question, I take it Severus Snape and you did not get along in your world?”

“Something like that,” Harry looked away.

“And judging from your question, you feel hurt to see your mother with Professor Snape?”

“I…” Harry trailed off. Who was he to judge his mother in this world. He barely knew her in this life. He knew his parents, or at least knew the ghostly remnants of his parents in his own world and through stories his teachers and their friends had told him about them.

“Yes,” Dumbledore cut through his thoughts, “to answer your question. Yes. It is not my nature to interfere with the lives of others, most certainly not of my professors. But if you do believe Professor Snape is a liability, a spy-“

“Yes, I mean no,” Harry’s head shot up, “I mean, he was a spy, sir, but not for Voldemort. He was a spy for _you_ in my world. He loved my Mum, even after she died protecting me and it was her death that was the catalyst for him to renounce his Death Eater ways and join with you… He became a double agent within Voldemort’s Death Eaters…I was only wondering…”

“Ah,” Dumbledore’s eyes brightened again, “then rest assured, Harry, Professor Snape is who you claim to be in this world. Yes, he has been working for me, but not for the Black King. He is one of the many spies I have within the Dark Lord’s inner circle.”

“Grindelwald?”

“Yes,” the headmaster nodded, “oh the Dark Lord allows the Black King to strut about as if he owned the place, but the Death Eaters report directly to him. I am sorry if I had misled you about Voldemort being the Dark Lord in this world, but it is truly Grindelwald who holds everyone on a tight leash. I did not know Grindelwald was defeated in your world…”

“You beat him sir,” Harry replied, “in my world. You confronted him and defeated him around 1945.”

“Ah…hmm,” an expression he couldn’t identify flitted across the Headmaster’s face, “I believe I may have been too lenient and distracted by the Muggles’ World War back then…”

Harry nodded before another thought occurred to him. “Headmaster, has anyone survived the Killing Curse?”

Dumbledore looked surprised at the question and shook his head, “No, my boy. That is why I believe you and your friends would be able to help us. You see, I believed that you survived the curse that killed your parents and such an anomaly does not exist in our world. You are our last hope, Harry.”

Harry nodded as he sensed the conversation was at an end and got up. “Thank you Headmaster. I’ll see you down in the Great Hall at lunch.”

“You’re always welcomed up here Harry. I value your knowledge and your friends’ knowledge,” Dumbledore smiled kindly at him before waving his wand once more, lifting the silencing spell in the room and the door opened on its own accord.

Harry stepped through and headed back down the stairs, lost in thought. What Dumbledore said confirmed his theory that there was no Boy-Who-Lived or Girl-Who-Lived in this world. Which meant Voldemort did not create his last and seventh Horcrux through him. But there was the chance that he had created other Horcruxes. However, he wondered if Dumbledore knew about them. It seemed he viewed Grindelwald more as a threat than Voldemort.

Another thought occurred to him as he headed back to the Room of Requirement. Did Grindelwald know about Horcruxes if Voldemort discovered them through Horace Slughorn and the books he read in the Restricted Section of the Library? He wanted to mention to Dumbledore the Prophecy and the Horcruxes, but something within him, perhaps even the influence that was the Dreamer, cautioned against revealing all he knew all at once.

Surprisingly he did not encounter anyone in the halls on his way back and wondered if his father and the group of Aurors following him on his patrol had cleared them out for him. Either that Marion had done the job…

However, when he rounded the corner to the entrance of the Room, he was quite surprised to see Sirius standing in front of the blank wall, waiting for someone. “Sirius…err…Mr. Black?” Harry brushed the Dreamer influence away in his mind. He had to admit, he almost did not recognize his godfather in this world. His was not a wasted face, hardened by years in Azkaban, but rather a handsome man who looked like he rarely smiled.

“Ah, Merlin,” Sirius nodded a greeting, “the Headmaster said you and your Knights were staying in the Room of Requirement, but as you may have already guessed, it does not open to any particular person. I’ve tried to think of the door to the room, but it’s not appearing.”

“No problem,” Harry gave him a brief smile before closing his eyes for a few seconds. He then opened them again and paced back and forth. On his third lap across the front, the door magically appeared and he grinned before opening it and gesturing for Sirius to step through.

“Thanks,” Sirius moved past him, “and you don’t have to call me Mr. Black. Sirius is fine, though the students call me Professor Black when I’m teaching them. Mr. Black sounds a bit stuffy if you get my drift.”

Harry nodded and stepped in, closing the door behind him. He noted that none of his friends were back and glanced at his watch. It was almost eleven-thirty…he hoped Ginny and Hermione did not run into any trouble at Hogsmeade nor did Neville or Ron get accosted by any other teacher or Auror on their way to see Remus.

“Godric and Nathan are fine, if you’re wondering,” Sirius suddenly said, taking one of the couches and looking around, “by the way, really nice décor. If I didn’t believe it, but it looks really Gryffindor-like.”

“Pardon?” Harry discreetly stuffed the Marauder’s Map back into the moleskin bag and placed it under his pillow.

“Sorry, I forgot, but we have four houses here at Hogwarts, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. They’re named after Hogwarts’ founders. I think they’re your Knights’ distant relations. Gryffindor House colors are red and gold,” Sirius looked at him intently and Harry wondered if his godfather suspected that he knew they weren’t who they were.

Harry shrugged, sitting down on one of the arm chairs across from Sirius, “We let Nathan deal with the décor before Godric decided he wanted it like the colors on his family’s crest. It’s home away from home…”

“Mmm,” his godfather looked around, “I hope your friends were successful in asking Remus whatever pressing question they had.”

“Oh…”

“Don’t worry,” Sirius grinned, “some of Crouch’s Aurors nearly jumped them, but I managed to shoo them away. I don’t know how much they will ask him, since he was in the middle of teaching a class…”

“Sorry,” Harry had a feeling that Sirius was probing him with questions and decided to answer as truthfully as he could, “our…Dreamer powers. They’ve not been acting right since we’ve gotten here.” He felt Merlin’s inquiry in his mind, asking if he needed help and Harry ignored the influence.

“Really?” his godfather looked surprised, “but that was pretty impressive display of power last night-“

“We can’t summon it at will like we used to,” Harry hoped his lie was convincing enough.

“I…don’t really know too much about Dreamers. Not one, you see,” Sirius didn’t look at all jealous, “James and Remus were. Not that I was jealous of them initially, but they do sometimes look like they’ve carried so much weight when they use their powers. I guess that’s why Nathan and Godric came looking for Remus…”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “though it bothers me, why Remus is the only Dreamer amongst you when you said him and Jam-er…Mr. Potter.”

“What, you don’t know? But I thought-“

“I didn’t realize that a Dreamer could lose his or her power,” Harry replied quickly before he picked up on the dream he had last night, “though Morgana said that she was going to corrupt Sal from his Dreamer powers…”

“Oh…” Sirius looked at him shrewdly, “Salazar…well, hate to say this Merlin, but according to history books, he was the Dreamer of Temperance before he was corrupted into the Dreamer of Envy.”

“The Headmaster did mention that one of his descendants, the other Salazar Slytherin that established Hogwarts was a Dreamer too and was also corrupted…” Harry could feel Merlin’s anguish within the Dreamer.

“I would have figured you would be more disturbed by the news,” Sirius stared at him carefully and Harry finally allowed a bit of Merlin to influence his words and actions.

“I believe Morgana does not have the stomach to convert Sal,” he replied, “her powers as the new heir of Fears is not complete. And I also believe Salazar would not allow himself to be tampered to the point where he switches allegiances.” Harry was surprised at his own words and at the conviction his voice held as Merlin spoke through him.

“Sorry Merlin,” his godfather looked ashamed, “I thought…”

“It is not your fault, Sirius,” Harry replied, “your history books may well be rewritten when we find a way to return.”

The door to the room suddenly opened and the two of them looked up to see Neville and Ron enter, both looking a bit glum. “Any luck?” Harry pushed Merlin’s influence away once more.

“Nah,” Ron shook his head before involuntarily straightening slightly as he saw Sirius in the room. “Hello…”

“I am only here to escort all of you to the Great Hall for introductions,” Sirius got up and gestured for Neville and Ron to take a seat, “Merlin here was telling me that your powers did not feel right when you first came to our world and you wanted to see Remus about it.”

“Um…yeah,” Ron smiled hesitantly before looking around, “G…err Selwyn and Rowena not back yet?”

Harry shook his head just as the door opened once more, but no one stepped through and the door closed again. Suddenly both Hermione and Ginny appeared as they took off the invisibility cloak and Harry winced. He glanced at Sirius and was surprised to see a pole-axed expression on his face.

“That’s…an invisibility cloak, isn’t it?” Sirius breathed out quietly.

“Oh…um…hello Mr. Black,” Hermione looked from them to Sirius nervously as Ginny clutched the cloak in her hands on top of the pile of packages she was carrying. “We were not expecting you,” she gave him a small smile before putting the packages down on the dining table as Ginny did the same before approaching Harry and handing him the cloak.

“It’s mine…a gift,” Harry did not like the look in Sirius’ eyes. It was too calculating, too shrewd. “I’ve enhanced it with a few spells to make sure that the demiguise’s fur does not fade too easily.” Rolling the cloak up, he stuck underneath his covers and glanced at Hermione and Ginny who both had worried looks. “How was it?” Harry knew he was trying to force a conversation, but he did not want Sirius prodding them with too many questions.

“We got a few extra clothes for all of you,” Hermione recognized his attempt and started handing out parcels to each of them. “Apparently the shops in Hogsmeade accept the coinage we use,” she explained to Sirius’ questioning look.

“Ah, well then, perhaps I should leave you to get changed. Lunch will be starting soon,” Sirius coughed lightly, “if you’ll excuse me.” He stepped to the door and exited, leaving them in awkward silence.

It was broken a few seconds later by Hermione glaring at Harry and he spread his hands out. “What? Sorry…I know I shouldn’t have brought him in here, but he was…” he trailed off, knowing his excuse was lame, “Sirius…”

“I understand,” surprisingly Hermione’s voice was not angry, but rather sympathetic, “but you have to understand, he’s not the Sirius we knew. He’s different…and I think he may suspect that we aren’t who we are. If he suspects, there’s a good chance he’ll tell your father, Remus, and everyone else in the Order.”

“Sirius would never do that,” Harry immediately replied before shutting his mouth as he knew that the Sirius he knew would never spill any unnecessary secrets, but Hermione was right, he really did not know his godfather in this world.

“I think he may have recognized your invisibility cloak,” Ginny said softly as she sat on her bed, opening up her parcels and taking out whatever she had brought and placing them neatly in her trunk.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Harry grumbled before noticing Ron’s expression of wonderment as he held up a rather nice looking set of robes and clothes. “Ron?”

“These are…really nice,” Ron gulped.

Hermione blushed pink, “The money bag did have a lot of galleons in it…”

“Wow…” Ron looked like he was over the moon with his new clothes and Harry glanced down a couple of the parcels that were in his hand. He set one down and opened the other one before holding up a rather nice looking robe that was cut stylishly. He had to admit, it looked better than his school robes. He glanced over in time to see Ginny duck her head, a blush forming on her face and grinned. She peeked up at him through her bangs and he winked at her.

Placing the robes down he opened up the other parcel and was glad to see fresh new sets of underclothes and some of the Muggle clothing he preferred to wear. How they managed to find it at Hogsmeade was beyond him.

“They’ve changed the shops a lot. I mean, Hog’s Head and Three Broomsticks are still there along with the old shops we may recognize, but it looks like a miniature version of Diagon Alley. That’s how we were able to get the various clothes,” Hermione was explaining to Neville and Ron before Neville got up and placed most of his new clothes into his trunk and headed to the bathroom to change.

“What did you get?” Ron asked as Hermione hugged a package close to her body and headed to the girls side of the restrooms.

“Something nice; I figured if we’re going to be impersonating Merlin and his Knights, we might want to get some clean cut robes instead of school robes. Think of it like professional work suits Muggles wear,” Hermione stuck her tongue out at him before disappearing into the bathroom.

That did explain the nice robe sets he had gotten and shrugged before dumping the packages on his bed, figuring that he would sort it later, plus it would deter anyone from digging under his covers for the invisibility cloak and took the set that Ginny seemed to like and headed to the bathroom to change.

A few minutes later, feeling a bit more refreshed now that he was out of the clothes he had been wearing for the past few days, he glanced at himself, Ron, and Neville, noting how much more…adult they looked. They most certainly did not look like Hogwarts students.

“I think Godric is preening,” Ron scratched the back of his head, “at least that’s what it feels like in my head. It’s all a buzz of sorts, like a happy buzz.”

“Any luck with Remus?” he asked as they waited for Hermione and Ginny. Girls took so long to change in his opinion.

“Not really. We hung around his class, group of first years, mostly in the corner, but he only got a chance to talk briefly. We left when the first years began to point at us,” Ron shrugged, “never realized how tiny they are.”

“That used to be us,” Neville pointed out just as Ginny and Hermione emerged from the bathrooms and Harry turned slightly, a grin on his face as he saw them.

Though it was just a clean cut robe with a low v-waist cut, he still noted that it accented Ginny’s figure and gave her a regal appearance. He had a feeling that perhaps Selwyn had a say in her choice of robes and felt Merlin agree in his mind. Hermione on the other hand, looked more like a professor of Hogwarts than a student and it fit her personality and Rowena’s apparent bookish knowledge.

“Ready?” he held his arm to Ginny as he let the influence color his words and actions, enough so that he had control of his own motor skills if Merlin were to spout off again and glanced at the others.

“Let’s go meet Hogwarts,” Ginny accepted his proffered arm and they headed out of the Room of Requirement.

* * *

Sirius had a surprised expression on his face as he saw them emerge from the Room, and Harry had ducked his head slightly to keep him from seeing his ear-to-ear grin. However, Ron had no reservations as Godric.

“We’re still the same,” Ron sounded offended as Godric’s boisterous tone colored his words. “It’s like you’ve never seen us before or seen nicer looking robes.”

“Sorry,” Sirius blinked in surprise before continuing on.

Harry looked around as they threaded their way to the Great Hall. He noted that Hogwarts still looked the same, but some of the portraits were just a little different along with some of the décor. They passed by groups of patrolling Aurors on their way down and many stopped to stare at them, whispering to their companions. They even nearly ran into a knot of students who stared at them with a bit of fear and awe. Some whispered their names, but then were quickly hushed up by older ones who whispered doubts about how they could be their counterparts.

Overall, by the time they entered the Great Hall, many of the patrolling Aurors, taking a quick break, had crowded around the doors, hoping to see who they were and Harry suddenly felt self conscious. Ginny must have sensed his discomfort and squeezed his arm lightly in reassurance.

Inside, most students were already chattering and eating with each other and some fell silent as they headed up to the Staff Table on one side of the hall, avoiding some of the students who ran up and down the tables in the middle of the hall chasing each other.

Harry realized that while dinner was usually the time when Dumbledore made major announcements, in this world, it seemed to be the opposite. Lunch time was when major announcements were made judging by the sheer amount of students in the hall. His eyes traveled along the house tables and picked out Neville’s counterpart, even Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Luna’s counterparts, the odd Ravenclaw sitting with the latest edition of the Quibbler while munching on a sandwich.

However, the greatest surprise to him was not finding this world’s Draco Malfoy sitting amongst the Slytherins, but rather, sitting at the Ravenclaw table, arm around a girl who looked about to be in her fourth year. He was smiling…actually smiling, but Harry ignored that as he stared at the girl. She looked…

“She looks like you,” Hermione whispered in his ear as she too had caught Malfoy at a different table, not surrounded by his Slytherin goons.

Hermione was right, the girl that Malfoy had his arm possessively around looked eerily like him, except she had wavy black hair and was wearing glasses. As she turned to one of her friends and laughed at a joke, he saw that her eyes were a bright emerald green…exactly like his. His breath caught in his throat…

He had never considered the possibility that his parents would have kids after him. Was this mysterious Ravenclaw girl even related to him? It was too much of a coincidence.

“I…think you may also have a brother, mate,” Ron pointed out a knot of Gryffindors sitting across from the Ravenclaw table and Harry noticed a particular boy who also looked eerily like him, except with no glasses, but the same unruly hair and what looked like a blend of his mother and father’s faces. He had brown eyes, but looked like he was related to the Ravenclaw girl because he was glaring at Malfoy in a way that Harry recognized on Ron’s face when Ginny was dating Dean Thomas.

He had dubbed it the brother-glare-of-death.

“I have a family…” Harry suddenly felt a bit heady and immediately Merlin’s influence filled him to prevent him from stumbling as they reached the Staff Table.

“Harry, easy there,” Ginny’s hand tightened on his arm to snap him out of his headiness and he nodded to her.

“I’m fine…” he muttered before his eyes looked up and down the table. A brief grin flitted across his face as he saw Hagrid sitting at the far end. Looked like some things never changed…and Hagrid being the Gameskeeper and the professor of Care of Magical Creatures was universal.

His mood soured a bit as he saw Snape sitting next to his mother. Dumbledore’s confirmation of his suspicions of his mother and Snape having an affair echoed in his head. He knew of Snape’s feeling towards his mother, but seeing them like this, in the flesh, it still somehow, felt wrong to him. He felt like his mother was betraying his father, betraying all that she had stood for in his mind. However, it looked like none of the teachers were bothered by it and realized it was an open secret. It was something that everyone knew, but no one commented on it.

That puzzled him.

Sirius motioned for them to stay where they were and Harry nodded, dropping his arm and looking around. Dumbledore sat in the middle of the table, Remus on the opposite side of him followed by McGonagall, Sinistra, and even Trelawney was sitting at the table. He wondered if Trelawney made any Prophecies in this world. Flitwick was amongst the group and even Professor Sprout was there. A few Aurors stood alongside the walls of the hall, most of them staring out in the sea of students, but like their fellow Aurors on patrol, more than one were staring at him.

Harry noted Marion and the man, probably her brother; he was pretty sure it was her brother, Marius, standing in the far corner. He thought he saw his father and Pettigrew’s face amongst the Aurors crowding the door, but his distance, he couldn’t quite make out the faces. However, he most certainly did see Mad-Eye Moody and Barty Crouch Jr. standing at the far end of the Staff Table, Crouch glaring at him.

“Crouch is giving us the stink eye,” Neville muttered quietly as Dumbledore stood up, holding his hands up for silence.

“I ran into him while I was going to Dumbledore’s office,” he replied back, “minor scuffle…no one hurt.”

“May I have your attention please; thank you,” Dumbledore said in a loud voice, “I believe there have been whispers of late night visitors going around the school-“

Harry noticed the knot of Gryffindors snickering to themselves and a separate group that consisted of Ron, Seamus, and Dean were also snickering. He saw Hermione’s counterpart whisper quickly to Ginny before the girls turned to another small group of mix houses all sitting at the Ravenclaw table and they whispered amongst themselves.

“-and I dare say that these rumors are quite true. It is an accident of great proportions, but as some Muggles say, there are happy accidents. This is one of them.” Dumbledore gestured to them, a bit grandly in Harry’s opinion, “Merlin and his Knights, Godric Gryffindor II, Selwyn the High Elf, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Nathan Hufflepuff.”

As expected the students and even some of the Aurors started to whisper amongst themselves. Harry noted that some of the students scoffed at the notion that they were really Merlin and his Knights and silently wondered how close they were to the mark. While he _knew_ somehow the Dreamer and Merlin were related, he still did not like that Dumbledore had made up the fact that they were really Merlin and his Knights. It felt…wrong…

He glanced at the Staff Table and saw that some of the teachers had surprised looks on their faces, but most were looking shrewdly at them and Harry wanted to hide from all of their gazes. It was as if all of his collective professors were watching him under a microscope – worst than when everyone believed that Voldemort had returned and had in turn, scrutinized him.

“This is like my boggart,” Hermione whispered and Ron squeezed her hand to reassure her.

“Welcome to my world,” Harry muttered under his breath as he glanced out at the Great Hall once more as Dumbledore held up his hands again for silence.

“I know many of you have doubts, but it is no coincidence. I believe it is the work of the Dark Lord’s most recent attempts to breach Hogwarts and Hogsmeade that has resulted in this happy accident,” Dumbledore said gravely, “you may have read in the _Quibbler_ and _Daily Prophet_ of the killing of five hundred Muggles and hundreds of wizards in Liverpool a few days ago. It is my firm belief that with such a high death toll, a rip in the magical fabric have brought Merlin and his Knights here by sheer accident.

“The Ministry is hard at work to return them to their proper place in time. However, in the mean time, I give them free reign of visiting your classes,” he nodded towards the teachers, some whom jumped in surprise, while others like his mother nodded calmly, “and learning all they can about our world. I advise you not to ask them too many questions as from what I’ve learned; they have come from a period of time when they are at battle with Morgana Le Faye’s forces.”

“Minister,” a hand shot up from the end of the Ravenclaw table and Harry was not surprised to see that it was Hermione’s hand. However, he noted to some surprise that she was wearing the house colors of Ravenclaw instead of Gryffindor.

“The Sorting Hat did say I make a good Ravenclaw,” Hermione whispered as he glanced at her before focusing his attention on her counterpart.

“Ah, Miss Granger, what is it?” Dumbledore looked at her with kind eyes.

“How do we know we have not already affected the fabric of time and space by having Merlin and his Knights here? They look similar to certain people amongst us-“

“Only because you wish it Granger, you stupid Muggle-born,” a Slytherin called out.

“-Miss Parkinson, that is enough,” Dumbledore glared icily at the pug-faced girl who immediately fell silent.

“-and what has already been done or said cannot be undone?” Hermione finished a bit meekly before scrunching herself further in her seat, embarrassed that she had brought attention to herself.

“Do I do that?” Hermione whispered to them and Harry shook his head along with Ron and Neville.

“No, no…I think this one is…pardon me Hermione, meeker,” Ron looked a bit embarrassed to be calling her counterpart a meek person.

“Excellent question, Miss Granger,” Dumbledore smiled at her and Harry immediately saw her face brighten at the approval, “and to address all of your concerns, it is my belief…”

Harry noticed that Hermione’s expression changed slightly and could see her hair darkening and realized that Rowena or at least the Dreamer had taken over Hermione before she brushed past him and bowed slightly to Dumbledore.

“Headmaster,” Hermione addressed Dumbledore, interrupting him, her voice more cultured and a bit more bookish sounding, “I believe I may be able to answer Miss Granger’s question. I am glad that my future namesake that helped started this school has such a bright witch in her house.”

Her counterpart blushed furiously in her seat before her friends all giggled good naturedly at her. Harry could only image what Hermione was thinking as she addressed her counterpart.

“Whatever has been said is reversible if we do not speak it to anyone else. Your question is valid, Miss Granger,” Hermione spread her hands out, “but it only applies to a group of historians or chroniclers. If we do happen to learn of our fates in our time here, it may be inconsequential because it is the belief of our cause that Fate can be changed. Nothing is permanently written until it has happened. It is also believed that we have been turned into legends in your time. This gives rise to the theory that time has passed so long since we existed that legends can grow and stories exaggerated.

“It has been my firm belief that magic is a living entity. You cannot control it, but you can harness its powers and use it to the best of your ability. Our battle against Morgana’s forces and our arrival here may not be mere coincidence. It may have been Fated. Perhaps the chroniclers and historians of your world did not speak of it because not one of us spoke of it in order not to upset the balance of the world or have a drastic effect on this Ministry’s current battle against the Dark Lord Grindelwald and the Black King Voldemort.”

Almost everyone in the room gasped at Hermione’s use of Grindelwald and Voldemort’s names.

“My companion Merlin has told me that fear of a name increases said name holder’s power. Do not fear names,” even Rowena looked a bit irked at how many people gasped. “As I have said, perhaps we would have arrived in this time and place at this moment in our current battle against the Dreamer of Fears, Morgana Le Faye.”

Harry noticed that the Aurors and even some of the students went completely still at the mention of the Dreamer of Fears. He even felt Merlin’s concern through him. Things were definitely a lot more serious about the currently Dreamer of Fears, Grindelwald, than he believed. Suddenly Merlin made him step forward and Hermione turned slightly.

“I believe that should suffice,” Harry felt Merlin’s concern in his voice and Hermione nodded as she stepped away from the front and let Dumbledore resume the stage.

“That still doesn’t explain why Selwyn doesn’t have pointy ears? And why she looks awfully like Ginny Weasley! I thought elves have pointy ears!” the loud and obnoxious voice did not come from the Slytherin table as Harry had thought, but instead, came from the Gryffindor table.

His eyes picked out the owner of the voice and to his chagrin it was the boy who could have been his younger brother.

“Mr. Edward Potter,” Dumbledore’s voice thundered angrily, confirming the worst to Harry, “that will be fifty points from your house for your rudeness-“

“Why do you, silly little boy, have such a large mouth? I would think you dishonor your parents by speaking in such a manner? Do you address all guests this way? It is a wonder you have been placed in the house of bravery. You would do well to be placed in the house of idiots,” Ginny suddenly spoke up loudly and Harry glanced back to see her eyes set and angry, Selwyn’s tone matching exactly like Ginny’s to the point where Harry didn’t know if it was Ginny or Selwyn speaking.

“Selwyn…” even Merlin sounded worried and Harry immediately knew all of the information regarding the noble High Elf’s temperament. She was fiery, rebellious, and disobeyed her parents when she joined his forces against Mab. She had paid the price for it by watching her Glade burn to ashes in the earliest battles against Mab and watched as Mab killed her mother before torturing her father slowly to death. It was only by the saving grace of them arriving at the Glade that they were able to save her twelve brothers and sisters in time.

But as he looked back at the Gryffindor table, the damage had already been done. Edward Potter looked completely chastised and embarrassed that even his own group of friends had moved a bit away, unwilling to associate with him at the moment.

“My apologies, Headmaster,” Ginny looked like she was about to bow to Lily Potter before catching herself and instead made a slightly awkward dip to the table, “my apologies Professors, for speaking out against one of your students.”

“That is quite all right,” McGonagall adjusted her glasses, “Mr. Potter has a nasty habit of speaking out of turn. I do believe as his head of House, I have taken as many points away from him as every other professor has done in the six years he has been here.”

Dumbledore coughed a bit loudly, bringing everyone’s attention back onto him, “As I was saying. Please treat our guests with _respect_ and take this as an opportunity to learn from one of history’s greatest wizard in your classes should you find him and his companions there. In the meantime, we will try to return them back to their time and home. If there are no other questions…”

Not one single student raised their hand after what had happened to Edward Potter and Dumbledore plastered a smile on his face. “Good…now eat up and return to your classes!” He clapped his hands once and food appeared on the table and the students all turned to eat.

Harry sagged slightly as he stepped back into the group; feeling as if he had ran a marathon. He noticed with a wave of his hand, Dumbledore clearing five places for them to sit amongst the teachers and gestured to them. “Please, join us for lunch? Merlin, you may sit on my left.”

Harry glanced at the others and they shrugged before taking the seats scattered around the professors; to Harry’s dismay and somewhat happiness, sitting to the left of Dumbledore meant sitting next to his mother. The dismay came from him sitting so close to Snape once more, but at least he and Merlin knew that the man would not dare try to probe his mind again, especially in front of so many people.

He sat down, adjusting his robes before glancing over to his mother. “Um…hi,” he could feel the influence retreat, sensing that he wanted to talk with his mother without having to be Merlin.

Lily Potter smiled brightly at him and shook his hand, “Hi. Lily Potter, Muggle Studies professor.”

“I remember, the meeting last night,” he smiled hesitantly, unsure how to talk with his mother.

She nodded before gesturing to Snape, “This is Severus Snape, he teaches Potions and I do want to apologize for his actions last night.”

“Ah,” Harry felt awkward shaking hands with Snape. He never felt so…civil towards Dumbledore’s spy. They had always butted heads and had an animosity towards each other from the day he had stepped into his Potions class to the point where Snape had escaped from Hogwarts before the attack by Voldemort. To shake hands and be civil towards Snape was a new and foreign concept to Harry. But a part of him was also relieved and glad that they believed he was Merlin instead of the famous Harry Potter.

“I can speak for myself, Lily,” Snape’s tone was neither snide nor sniveling, but rather, it sounded mild and for once if Harry hadn’t been sitting down, he would have fallen to the floor in shock, friendly.

However, he realized that the friendly tone held a hint of banter that was meant for his mother and his ire at seeing his mother laugh a bit at Snape’s comment rose a bit. Just as suddenly he clamped it down. He had no right to judge Lily Potter or Severus Snape in this world, even though they were having an affair while his mother was still married to his father. It must have been the war that drove her into the Potions Master’s arms…

“I take it that you’re close?” Harry hoped his smile did not look like a grimace.

“No, Lily and I are co-workers, that’s all,” Snape replied, a smile on his lips, but his eyes told him to drop whatever thread he was going with this line of questioning. Harry nodded, knowing from experience that if Snape got angry, he got angry…and he had a nasty feeling that in this world, the Potions Master was far from the broken man he was in his world, especially considering that his mother was alive.

“So,” he hastily took a bite out a sandwich that had appeared on his plate and chewed quickly and swallowed before continuing, “What do you do as the Muggle Studies professor?” It was the most inane question he could think of, but there were so many others crowding his head, vying for dominance. He wanted to ask his mother about her favorite Quidditch team, what life was like at Godric’s Hollow, what happened on Halloween 1981, but they were completely inappropriate questions for a meal conversation and especially if they did not know each other.

“My position used to prepare wizards and witches who come through Hogwarts to interact with Muggles, non-magical people, in society, but with the war,” she looked a bit sad, “I’ve taken into account spells and charms that would enable students to help Muggles to safety and protect them.”

“Ah, similar to what we have been doing in the war against Morgana,” Merlin’s influence helpfully pulled a thread of thought regarding what happened when they came across each town that hadn’t been attacked by Morgana, but was also in her path of destruction.

“Tell me,” his mother suddenly looked up at him, her green eyes sparkling in earnest before she lowered her voice in a whisper, “if it is too personal, I apologize, but you and Lady Selwyn…”

 _Uh oh_ , Harry could feel Merlin’s dread and sent a quick thought of inquiry towards the influence. All he got back was just mixed feelings towards Selwyn, much similar to his own during his sixth year and realized that Merlin did have feelings towards the High Elf. His smile must have shown because Lily hid a giggle behind her hand and Harry immediately wiped the smile from his face.

“No, no,” he held up his hands, “it’s not what you think…” He could feel the influence seemingly glare at him stonily for such an answer. Harry mentally sent an apology to Ginny for what he was going to say next. “We may be close, but it is not that way. I only see her like a sister and a great commander.”

“Really?” one of Lily’s eyebrows lifted up in disbelief, “interesting.”

 _I love Ginny, but I can’t tell her that. Merlin is denying his feelings towards Selwyn_ , Harry wanted to rip his hair out in frustration. If only they had gotten together, then it would have been easier, but somehow he knew that it had to be complicated between the two of them, not to mention the two different species of magical beings. He could feel Merlin becoming a bit prickly with her line of questioning. “She is an inspiration to all our forces…”

Lily nodded before leaning over, “Tell her…before it is too late…”

Harry wanted to smile, but somehow Merlin’s influence prevented him from smiling at the advice. Instead, he could feel the influence move his mouth, the words coming unbidden. “Amusing advice, Professor, considering your relationship…”

Just as suddenly Lily drew back, hurt in her eyes, but her face was a mask of neutrality and she gave him a brief grimacing smile. “Touché, Merlin, touché.”

 _What the hell are you doing!_ He mentally shouted against the influence as it retreated back in his mind once more. That was not the way he wanted to talk to his mother, but the influence ignored his anger. “I’m sorry,” he apologized to his mother, “it’s been…stressful lately.”

Lily gave him a thin smile, “No worries, Merlin. I was just a girl caught up in the stories written about you. One of our Aurors Marius Sadow used to also be a student here, a couple of years ahead of me, but he would tell us stories about Merlin and his Knights. Romantic lore, you see.”

Harry nodded before glancing out at the Great Hall, absently taking another bite of his sandwich, trying to find another topic to talk about when his eyes immediately focused on Draco Malfoy and the girl who could be his little sister. He frowned in mid-bite before swallowing and taking a gulp of the firewhiskey in a mug that appeared before him, letting the alcohol burn down his throat.

“That’s Iris Potter, my youngest…though she’s already fourteen,” Lily noticed his gaze, “the boy next to her is Draco Malfoy. Nice boy, though my husband does not approve. I do not like his parents though.”

“Lucius Malfoy is a rumored Death Eater amongst the Dark Lord’s forces and has been installed as the new Minister of Magic to a puppet regime in London,” Snape jumped in, “as Draco is part of my House, I make sure that his father’s influence in the Ministry here is few and far in-between.”

Harry nodded; Snape as the head of Slytherin House was one sense of normalcy in this world at least. He didn’t speak up and instead took another large bite out of the sandwich, feeling that if he spoke up now, his old prejudices against the so-called dark house was going to give him away.

“And Edward Potter?” he ventured a guess.

“ _James_ ,” Harry nearly flinched at her harsh tone when she spoke his name, “was supposed to make sure Eddie didn’t run with his mouth like he’s prone to do. He's a fifth year and you would think boys his age would have manners. I’ll talk to James tonight. Can you also pass a message to Lady Selwyn that I would like to speak to her to apologize properly? As Eddie's mother, I am ashamed at his behavior. I would have thought he was raised better than that.”

He could feel Merlin’s grumblings, or was his own thoughts, along the lines of perhaps if Lily had stayed faithful to James instead of running to Snape’s arms then perhaps her son wouldn’t have turned out so bratty. He pushed away the thought, “I will.” He saw the relieved look his mother wore and finished the last of his sandwich, washing it down with another swig of the firewhiskey. A torrent of emotions ran through him as he felt so alienated from his mother. It also made him realize how little he knew of her even from the stories his professors told him and the stories Remus and Sirius had told him.

“Ah, Merlin,” Dumbledore interrupted their conversation and he turned to see the Headmaster leaning down towards him, “any idea which classes you will be observing this afternoon? Or perhaps you would like to spend more time in the Library. I could have one of my Aurors give you a tour of the place.” He saw the twinkle in the Headmaster's eye at the latter part of his statement and shook his head.

“We'll see,” he did not want to go to the Library to look up more information. Having spent seven years with Hermione Granger and looking up various information had made him a bit leery of the Library and Madam Pince's hawkish gaze each time he went in there. He did not know if he could stand someone droning on and on about Hogwarts when he knew it like the back of his hand. Plus classes...Harry did not want to excite the students right after they had been introduced... Another thought occurred to him, something he hadn't done in a long time...

“Headmaster, do you have a Quidditch pitch?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer.

“You play Quidditch?” Lily spoke up, surprised.

“Little time to play,” he let Merlin answer, “but I do miss flying...”

Dumbledore gave him a genial smile, “We do. I'll have Madam Hooch our flight instructor and Quidditch referee show you to the pitch. You may borrow one of our brooms from the storeroom.”

For the first time since Harry arrived in this alternate world, he let a real genuine smile of happiness appear on his face. “Thanks, Headmaster.”


	8. Flight

Harry emerged from the locker rooms with a borrowed Nimbus 2001 in hand. It wasn't as good as his Firebolt, but he had declined Madam Hooch's offer to use her Firebolt. He knew how possessive one could be of their broom instead of letting someone else use them and while his former teacher had said it was fine if he wanted to use it, he had offered her a chance instead, to race him around the pitch.

Of course, Hooch had been over the moon with giddy anticipation at the chance to be racing “Merlin” of all people and had eagerly shooed him from the Great Hall and down to the pitch. Unfortunately it had also attracted some attention of students who had a free period after lunch, mostly upperclassmen, but Ron had offered to race with him, opting to get away from the crowds of Gryffindor girls who were staring at him with hungry eyes. Hermione had opted to attend a few classes, while Neville wanted to check out the greenhouses and Professor Sprout was all the more happy to show him the latest dangerous plants she had. Ginny looked torn between observing classes before her Quidditch instincts finally got the best of her and she had followed them to pitch, grabbing another Nimbus 2001 to use. Ron had eagerly grabbed the Nimbus 2001, glad that it was an improvement over his own used Cleansweep 11.

He mounted his broom and immediately kicked off, feeling a slight twitch of the Nimbus models. It wasn't as bad as his old broom before the Whomping Willow destroyed it, but it was a lot more noticeable having ridden his Firebolt for such a long time.

He allowed himself to close his eyes and feel the breeze ruffle his hair and a smile appeared unbidden on his lips. It felt good to fly once more.

“It's been what...nearly a year since we flew? And that dragon doesn't count, Harry,” Ron spoke up next to him and Harry opened his eyes to see his best friend with a wide smile on his face, Ginny pulling up next to him, her hair tied tightly behind her.

“More than that for me,” he remembered that he did not fly while they were escaping from Little Whinging, and instead had ridden in Sirius' motorbike while avoiding Death Eaters and Voldemort.

“If I may say, Merlin, you look like you really miss the broom,” Madam Hooch's voice called out near them and he glanced over to see her robes flapping wildly behind her as she adjust her goggles. He noticed that she had opted to take a Nimbus 2001 instead of her prized Firebolt.

“Been a while,” he called back, “too much to do, too little time for simple pleasures.”

“Shall we then? Three laps around the pitch. First one to thread the needle of the middle post wins.”

“Throw in Bludgers and you have a deal,” he wanted a bit of a challenge and saw the flight instructor’s eyes widen in surprise.

“All right then...you play tough,” Madam Hooch pointed her wand down at a trunk and muttered a few words before the trunk opened and two Bludgers shot out from the Quidditch set and started to fly around the innate magicks within them sensing what kind of competition was ahead. “No spells, just pure and simple race, all right?”

Harry nodded before a thought occurred to him, “Professor, what is threading the needle?” He had never heard of such a term used in Quidditch or in flying.

“Your goal posts must've been smaller when you were playing,” she grinned at him and pointed at the far end of the pitch where the three rings stood. “The middle one is large enough for a decent sized player to go through. We call it threading the needle.”

“Ah, gotcha,” Harry adjusted his weight on the broom, “who calls it?”

“Ready,” Sirius' amplified voice nearly unseated all of them as they glanced over to the stands to see him standing amongst a small group of Aurors and students who were watching them with interest. He saw Tonks sitting next to Sirius, her hair a bubblegum pink and shaking her head at his godfather's antics. She looked like she was also eating lunch and realized that she was probably on her lunch break.

“Get set...” Sirius dragged out the last word and Harry straightened on his broom, eyes focused.

“Go!” as soon as the words left Sirius' mouth Harry shot off, speeding towards the first set of goals.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ginny tailing him when suddenly Madam Hooch dipped from below and drifted into his path, making him back up slightly, enough so that Ginny was now level and behind him he heard Ron yelp as he also got a face full of broomsticks. The first Bludger came pelting at them as they rounded the posts and everyone scattered, Hooch and Ginny pulling up high, Harry and Ron diving as they swung around.

The Bludger followed Ginny and Hooch but Harry noticed a small movement out of the corner of his eye and swerved as the second Bludger rushed at them, flying in between him and Ron before curving around and pursuing them. Harry flattened himself on his broom and willed it to go faster as he shot past the stands and rounded the other goals. He took a quick look behind him and saw Ron ducking and weaving, falling a bit behind as he avoided the Bludger before said Bludger decided it had enough of harassing him and shot towards him.

Harry immediately weaved, feeling the Nimbus underneath him quiver with the effort he was pushing into the broomstick to make it work for him. He glanced up to see the Bludger that had been chasing Hooch and Ginny come pelting at him and narrowed his eyes before deciding to dive towards the ground.

The whooshing sound of the two Bludgers following him was mired with the gasps from the small crowd in the stands as he dived, the ground coming up quick. He pulled up at the last second and gave a rueful grin at hearing one of the Bludger thump into the ground before pulling a tight left-handed turn as he rounded the bottom of the goalposts. Glancing behind him, he saw that the other Bludger had decided to stop harassing him and instead, took off for Ginny once more who was circling above him. Madam Hooch was tailing her, looking a bit winded and he wondered if he she had taken a Bludger to the stomach or something.

He turned back around and his eyes widened in surprise as he realized he had been flying on the level of the stands and immediately pulled to his left, the broom shuddering underneath his touch to avoid crashing into the group of curious Aurors, Sirius amongst them and they ducked as he flew overhead.

“Sorry!” he yelled down at them as he shot forward and circled the opposite posts and continued on his last lap. He pulled his broom up and flew on Ginny's level and grinned roguishly at her.

She only winked at him before suddenly slamming her broom into his and he nearly pin wheeled and fell, but managed to hold onto his grip. “Ginny!” he gasped before she only smiled at him and inched forward.

“Hey!” Ron's voice came from behind and they both turned to see him closing up on their tails, “miss me?”

“Not a chance,” Harry shot back before urging his Nimbus to quicken its pace. It responded somewhat sluggishly but tried to quicken itself.

The three of them shot around the last goal posts and headed towards the middle of the rings on the opposite end, determined to thread the needle. Harry was so focused on his goal that he nearly missed seeing the little black remaining Bludger shooting towards them. He cursed as the Bludger sped towards them, forcing all of them to scatter at the last second and they all flew past the middle ring. Harry immediately threw his broom around in a spin just in time to see Madam Hooch smiling cheekily at them before threading the needle herself, signaling the end of the race.

“The winner...Madam Hooch!” Sirius' amplified voice declared over the pitch as Harry guided his broom to land on the ground, catching his breath, a wide smile on his face as his friends also landed near him and finally Madam Hooch who gave them a short bow before dismounting from her broom.

Some in the small crowd applauded before finishing up their lunches and heading back to their patrols while the students that had free periods exited the stands and headed towards them, eager anticipation on their faces.

“Good race,” Hooch sounded breathless before waving her wand to put the Bludgers back into their trunk, “all of you fly really well. Merlin that was exceptional dodging of the Bludgers. I have never seen such fearless flying...it is too bad that you're not a student here, otherwise, you would have made such a great seeker for one of the Houses.”

Harry glanced at Ginny and Ron who looked like they were trying to hide their laughter. If Madam Hooch only knew...he silently thought to himself. He nodded to the flight instructor's assent before bowing slightly to her, letting Merlin's influence color his words once more as he felt too short of breath to speak. “Thank you, Madam Hooch. It has been a long time since I've flown that way. If you do not mind, my friends and I would like to fly around the grounds a bit more?”

She looked at them in surprise before nodding, “I'm sure that will be fine. Just beware of the Whomping Willow and the Forbidden Forest that way,” she pointed in the vague direction of the vast forest expanse that was one of the natural barriers of Hogwarts, “they've some nasty creatures in them that don't really like people on brooms flying over.”

“Do you want an escort? I have a few hours to kill,” a student spoke up in the lead of the group of students that had climbed down from the stands. Harry noted to a degree of horror and uneasiness that it was Romilda Vane, and she looked like she could eat him up.

“No thank you,” Ginny stepped in between his line of vision and hers and smiled sweetly at the Gryffindor. “We appreciate the offer, but we'll pass.”

However, Romilda did not looked to be deterred and boldly stepped forward and was about to speak again when Madam Hooch blew her whistle, startling all of them, Harry included. “I know you students should be getting to your next classes. No single student has so many free periods in a day, especially with you seventh years and your N.E.W.T.s in a couple of days. Shoo! Go on now!”

The small crowd of students grumbled mostly to themselves before heading away from the pitch under the watchful gaze of some of the Aurors who had lingered behind, either out of curiosity or just to make sure the students were safe. Harry blinked in surprise as he saw Romilda, amongst the group, turn slightly and blew him a kiss before giggling with her knot of friends. That girl just did not give up, even in this world...

“Harpy,” he heard Ginny mutter none too loudly behind him before sharing a crooked smile with Ron who stepped up next to him, half leaning on his broom. He shook his head as Madam Hooch made a noise behind them half like a bark of laughter, half like a noise of concern.

_Girls..._

* * *

Remus Lupin prided himself on his extensive knowledge of both the Dark Arts and the defense of it in any situation. He also prided himself on his extraordinary senses given to him by his werewolf condition, the only saving grace of him being a half-breed. But most of all, he prided himself on having been chosen by the previous Dreamer of Temperance to be its heir and keeper.

He did not know the man that had worn the mantle Dreamer of Temperance. He only knew him like vague memories that occasionally swam up to greet his consciousness, to provide him with centuries, perhaps hundreds of them of accumulated experiences to use the subtle powers of a Dreamer. He knew his limitations and how his powers were expressed within him. He also knew that he was the last of his generation, the last of the Dreamers in the long reign of the Dark Lord Grindelwald, to still have kept his powers.

It was through irony and Fate that he was still the Dreamer of Temperance. Irony because unlike his dearest friends or closest allies, he was the only one who kept the name, Temperance. His dear friend James Potter had once been the Dreamer of Courage, but lost his powers as soon as he had lost his courage and will to fight almost seventeen years ago. He was the shell of a broken man. The other Dreamers who had been chosen had similarly lost their powers and their namesakes when they forsook the name of the Dreamer.

However, they had not prepared heirs. It took almost a lifetime of searching for an heir to a Dreamer. There was no extensive vetting process, only simple knowledge and instinct. Not one of the Dreamers save for him, had an heir when their powers faded. And he had only found his by sheer accident. However, he knew his heir was not ready to bear the burden of Temperance.

And so, he suspected that Merlin and his Knights, however they may be Dreamers as James, he, and the three other former Dreamers had saw during the Order meeting, but they weren't the heirs. They were temporary bridges, there to hold the powers of the Dreamers until the true heirs could be found and the powers given. It was one of the subtleties his powers had told him and it was then that he knew, they weren't who they had claimed to be.

Oh he believed that they had come from a different world, that was one thing for sure, but he knew that they were temporary placeholders. But in such times, he also knew that whatever help they got, they would gladly take and use. If Merlin and his Knights were willing to help them in the war against Grindelwald and Voldemort, then he would embrace their “personas” until they were ready to really reveal who they were. Even then, he knew that he would support them, because Temperance told him that they were honorable, righteous, and had the one thing that they lacked sorely in these times. They had hope.

“Professor Lupin?” the young voice of Dennis Creevey startled him from his thoughts and he glanced up from one of the many parchments he had collected today to correct to see the young Gryffindor fourth year waving his hand in the air.

“Yes Dennis?” the other students had also looked up from their reading assignment.

“Can you tell us what Merlin or his Knights were like when they fought for Camelot back then? The history books in the library don't explain too much, just that Merlin was instrumental in helping the Muggle King Arthur drive away the forces of his half-sister, Morgana Le Faye. They barely even mention his Knights by name, only in passing reference,” Dennis' eyes shone with wonderment and Lupin resisted the urge to smile.

There was little credit given to Dennis Creevey as many expected him to be like his older brother Colin, who loved to take photographs and worship the ground some of the more famous wizarding children that went to school here. He also had a tendency to follow Sirius around like a little lost puppy, given Sirius' infamous status amongst the Death Eaters of Grindelwald's forces. However, Dennis, while occasionally like his brother, preferred to follow Marion Sadow around due to her infamy in the Veela Attacks of 1983. Dennis was as much of a bright student as Hermione Granger, who was a seventh year Ravenclaw.

He noted, however, that all his other fourth years, including little Iris Potter who was sitting with her knot of Ravenclaw classmates, were looking at him expectantly. He would have thought that Lily, having been fed so many romantic lore by Marius Sadow during their years in Hogwarts, would have told Iris already the legends of Merlin and his Knights. Apparently he was mistaken.

“Is this sudden interest due to our guests?” he asked Dennis, putting his quill down; just so, as he was ready to dump the rest of his red ink onto the parchment he was reading from Pansy Parkinson. How she had gotten into his N.E.W.T. Defense Against the Dark Arts class was beyond him – her essays were horrible and full of grammar mistakes.

“Yes,” Dennis was bolder than his older brother, “I like them. Or at least they look pretty cool. I mean, Ron Weasley looked shocked to see Godric look almost like him. There were differences, but you can tell he looked shocked.”

Remus knew full well how much of a following Ron Weasley had. The young man was captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team and was a fair Keeper. His younger sister Ginny was the team's star seeker and had admiring fans of her own, but Ron strutted the halls with his two best friends, Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas. They carried themselves with what they called Gryffindor Pride and got into messy fights with Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, and the other Slytherins because of “House Pride.” He would have thought Draco would be off their list of targets due to him dating little Iris, but apparently not because of Iris' older brother Eddie who, when he had to chance, got into all-out fights with Malfoy.

Remus himself had to break up the brawl between the older Malfoy and younger Potter more than once and it made him annoyed to no end that neither James nor Lily could see to discipline their eldest child, even though he was just a fifth year. He didn't blame James too much though, his friend had long been teetering on the edges of despair and had trust Lily would have enough common sense to straighten out Eddie, but she apparently left the disciplining to Severus.

Remus knew how much Eddie despised Severus, and always railed against him whenever possible. There were times when Eddie seemed like he hated everyone at Hogwarts save for his friends, and those were the times when only Sirius or Peter would be able to get through to the boy.

 _Focus..._ the tendril of his Dreamer reminded him gently that he had a class full of wide-eyed students still waiting for an answer from him and he coughed slightly to cover his wandering thoughts.

“I'm sure Mr. Weasley will recover,” he said gently to Dennis and noticed him bristle a little from the slight he perceived about Ron. “Now, to answer your question, I do know a little of Merlin lore and I do know of his help in aiding King Arthur and Camelot. However, my knowledge of that time is not so great.”

He conjured up a stool with a comfortable pillow in it and sat down on it, facing the students, “You see, in that time, there were wands and there were spells and incantations. But it was more of a wild magic that roamed the lands.”

“Wild magic?” little Iris asked, pushing her glasses up on her nose as they had drooped down when she was scribbling down on her parchments.

“Wild magic,” Remus smiled at her and nodded before looking out towards the other students, “historians and chronicles classified it as three different types: hand, focused, and silent magic. Each one was related to the other, for example you can wave your hand and not say a word, but something will happen. That is silent-hand magic. Or as a focus, one uses a wand and says the spells or waves it for an incantation. Or you can use a wand and not say a spell, silent magic. Hand magic died out and while it does exist today, it is what we call wandless magic.”

The students nodded at his words. He shifted slightly and continued, “You may remember a time when you were so angry that you did something with magic? That is wandless magic. Today, hand magic and focus magic are what has passed down from so many generations. This is one of the primary reasons why wizards and witches always need a wand. If I were to say, just wave my hand right now and say ' _Levicorpus!_ ' nothing would happen because I know I need a focus. But that particular spell can be done wandlessly, but with great effort and practice.”

“What about silent magic? I know Aurors use it around the school sometimes,” another Ravenclaw sitting near Iris spoke up.

Remus smiled, “Silent magic exists, but it takes months of training to master it. Only those who are powerful in their magicks and those who have the will to cast whatever spell they want will succeed. Do all of you remember how Minister Dumbledore lights the candles and blows them out in the Great Hall?”

Heads nodded eagerly, “Well the Minister himself has great control over his magic and thus is able to wordlessly say the spells needed to light the candles and put them out. That is one example of silent magic.”

“But isn't categorizing the magic bad? I mean, were there others?” Remus noted that little Iris looked puzzled and was almost crossing her eyes to think about it. She definitely had her mother's brains, no doubt about that.

“There were,” he wondered if they should know, but knew that as fourth years, it was the cusp of time for them to be growing up, not the time for childish comforts like the first through third years could afford. “One such wild magic was that of a sorceress,” he said gravely and the room instantly felt silent with a hush. All of the fourth year Gryffindor and Ravenclaw eyes focused on him and he shifted in his stool once more.

“The Ministry, both Ministries mind you, believe that there are no more sorceresses in the world, and the last one was believed to be Mata Hari, killed by the Dark Lord himself when she failed in her mission many years ago. Legends speak of Circe as the first sorceress and Morgana Le Faye as another one.”

“But I thought she's a Muggle?” Dennis looked confused.

“She disguised herself well,” Remus recalled the stories he had heard from Marius, “and bewitched Arthur himself while Merlin was away from his side. No one knows what a sorceress' powers are, but they do say that it very temperamental. Legend also has it that it was not Merlin who killed Morgana in the final confrontation between the two, but rather she was killed by her own powers, which had turned against her. I do not know any more about this, but I can speculate that perhaps she had seemingly enslaved her powers to herself and they had rebelled against her as a result.”

“How do you do that? Can you really do that?” the students whispered.

“It would explain our battles,” a slightly deep and cultured voice murmured quietly from the corner of the room and Remus nearly fell off of his stool. He had forgotten that Rowena Ravenclaw had wanted to observe his class and had stood in the corner of the room, silent for his whole lesson and even until the time that the students had been reading and making notes in their textbooks.

She smiled at the startled students who had apparently also forgotten about her before coloring slightly, “I apologize...I did not mean to break such a spell you had on your students.”

“No, no,” Remus remembered the warning that she had said in the Great Hall about altered destinies, “but I do hope that you would take the information I said to heart about Morgana.”

“I will,” she nodded earnestly just as the bell signaled the end of the period and his students groaned a bit audibly, hoping to hear more. “Merlin would be happy to hear that he will defeat Morgana, but I fear he is looking at more immediate concerns.”

“Ah,” he got up from his stool as his students grumbled mostly to themselves before heading out, having already gotten their homework for the night. “I am quite surprised though that you decided to observe my class.”

Rowena looked down shyly for a moment before lifting her head up, her hair a nicely rich bushy brown and black, “I miss this...place. Rather, I miss listening to lessons...teaching...you know.”

Remus knew there was something she was not saying, but decided not to press the issue. The Dreamer within him told him that he will have all the answers he needed in due time, especially about the unusual image that he had plucked from Merlin's mind of a baby, that looked similar to him, but had tousled bluish hair that was turning pink. He wondered how the wizard knew that Tonks was pregnant with their child... Or was it even their child he had gleaned...he did not know.

“You're more than welcomed to stay, though I do have a practical class next period with my fifth year Hufflepuffs and Slytherins,” he offered.

The smile on her face was genuine, “Sure. I love to.”

* * *

In the end they had not opted to take the brooms as they thought they were, Ron complaining that his Nimbus didn't feel quite right after the race and instead had opted to walk around on foot. In reality, Harry wanted to check out all of the secret passages he knew from the school, most in particular the one from the Whomping Willow to the Shrieking Shack. He also wanted a chance to talk with Ginny about communicating with Merlin or at least hoping the Dreamer influence would be able to contact him in a dream of sorts. It was starting to get a little annoying having to vie for dominance in his own head when it used to be his own.

However, Ron didn’t follow them having decided to find Hermione and Harry sensed, perhaps spend some quality time with her alone. It also was advantageous for him as it gave him the chance to spend some time alone with Ginny, having barely seen her since the war ended and even the year before that. He had missed her terribly. Though he had occasionally thought about her during his year-long journey to destroy all of Voldemort’s Horcruxes, he hadn’t realize the extent of his feelings towards her until they were alone, walking along the shores of the great loch that was one magical border of Hogwarts.

The giant squid lazily extended a tentacle in the air before splashing it down, making a few waves lap up on the shore and a few of the loch birds squawk and fly into the air, startled. “It’s almost like home,” Ginny murmured quietly as the walked along the shore.

Harry deigned not to hold her hand, knowing that the patrolling Aurors were probably watching, nor did he want to give any indication to anyone save for the ones who knew him that Merlin and Selwyn were an item. His mother’s question during lunch was a curiosity that had been apparently written in the legends. However, she and the others who studied the lore knew that Merlin had died alone without the company of his friends and those who cared for him.

He briefly wondered why the Merlin that was influencing him did not know about the history and information that he read from the old book Dumbledore had given them on their first night here.

“Yeah,” he replied, pushing the puzzling thought away and instead focused on the present. He found that his feet was automatically heading towards Hagrid’s hut where Care of Magical Creatures was going on and stopped a few meters away, watching as a mixed group of students, either third-years or second-years he couldn’t tell, were standing in awe as a unicorn and its foal stepped hesitantly out from the Forbidden Forest.

An unbidden smile appeared on his face as he saw a timid looking young Hufflepuff approach the unicorn, hand outstretched to let the magical creature sniff its fingers.

Hagrid was somewhat near them and watched with a big smile on his face. Even the Slytherins who were mixed in were staring in wonderment as the unicorn cautiously approached the Hufflepuff and sniffed gently before retreating slightly.

“T-Thank you,” the little Hufflepuff murmured quietly before bowing slightly to the unicorn who apparently blinked its voluminous liquid eyes and seemingly dipped its head in acknowledgement.

The young Hufflepuff suddenly giggled as she retreated back into the group and the unicorn and foal turned tail and disappeared into the forest, the wondrous spell broken.

“I wished Hagrid let us do that in all of my years in Care of Magical Creatures,” Ginny spoke up and Harry nodded in agreement before they continued walking, making a detour into the Forest to avoid any unnecessary questions from the group of third years who might have spotted them.

“Harry, we shouldn’t be in the Forest. I mean if there are this many Aurors patrolling?” Ginny trailed off as they both stopped and stared at the unicorn and foal that had suddenly appeared in front of them.

Harry tilted his head and suddenly on impulse, put his hand out like the Hufflepuff did to let the unicorn sniff his fingers. He didn’t know why he did so, but hoped that the magical creature would oblige his request. He saw the unicorn blink its liquid black eyes at them before stepping tentatively forward and sniffed his fingers. As the creature sniffed its finger, he could suddenly feel something within him come alive, as if refreshing his vitality and strength.

_You are different, Young One…not tainted or filled with darkness. Savior of our world, you carry light within you…you carry the Hopes of others. Hardships befall you, but your endeavors fulfilled._

Just as suddenly the voice disappeared and the unicorn stopped sniffing his fingers. Harry stared at the creature in surprise before he remembered to bow like the Hufflepuff did. The unicorn seemingly dipped its head in acknowledgment before just as suddenly, its foal cut right through them and buried its muzzle into Ginny’s hand.

Harry looked at her and just for a split second, saw his whole world go white. He blindly threw his hands up in an effort to shield his eyes, but the blinding white stayed. Just as suddenly the white was gone and he blinked owlishly before he noticed Ginny was lying on the ground, unmoving.

“Ginny!” he shouted, kneeling down at her and drew out his wand. He glanced around and saw that the unicorn and foal were gone, the darkness of the Forbidden Forest encroaching further upon him. It was also then that he realized that night had fallen in the split second from the whiteness to Ginny on the ground. “ _Lumos!_ ” he said, and crouched near her body, his senses on alert for anything that could have attacked and put Ginny down. He hadn’t realized how far into the Forest they had ventured in and had thought that they had only skirted the edges. What had happened?

The light his spell gave off was not bright, but it was bright enough for him to see that she looked unharmed, no scratches, nothing to indicate that she had been hexed. Touching her brow, he noted that she felt a bit cold, but a quick grasp of her wrist told him that she was still alive. “Ginny,” he shook her slightly, but she did not respond.

“ _Ennervate_ ,” he pointed his wand at her, but nothing happened. Harry cursed silently before the crack of a branch near by made him spin slightly, almost losing his footing as he was still crouched, and pointed his wand towards the direction of the sound. He could hear his own breath harsh in his ears and wondered if they had somehow been transported deeper within the Forbidden Forest during the split second of white that he couldn’t recall. Maybe it had accounted for the shift from mid-afternoon to night?

Another crack of a branch, this time closer and Harry was about to shout out another spell when his eyes widened at the sight of two massive antlers emerging from the shrubbery and ferns before the head and body of a magnificent stag stepped out. “Prongs…” he whispered, the stag looking every inch like his own Patronus.

Within a blink of an eye, the stag disappeared and his father stood, towering over them, concern etched on his face.

“Merlin, Lady Selwyn! We’ve been looking all over for you,” James’ voice was not the voice of a broken man and instead sounded much like the voice he had heard when he was yelling at Crouch earlier in the day.

“I can’t…” Harry stopped and took a quick breath before spilling Ginny’s name to his father, “Selwyn’s not moving…I don’t know. I’ve tried to revive her, but…”

James nodded before holding up his wand high and red sparks shot up from it, “We need to be careful, there were a pack of wolves, I think, that were advancing on your position.”

He pointed his wand at Ginny and levitated her off the ground gently before gesturing for him to follow him. Harry kept his wand out as he followed behind Ginny’s floating form, staring occasionally at her in concern. What had happened when the unicorn foal placed her muzzle in Ginny’s palm? He did not remember any shouts or exclamations of surprise…

The bark of a dog startled Harry for a second before a large black dog padded up to them then in the blink of an eye Sirius stood next to them, and pointed his wand at Ginny. “I’ve got it James, keep an eye out. I smelled more than wolves in the area. I don’t think its Death Eaters, but we can’t be too sure.”

“Roger,” his father’s voice had dropped into a hoarse whisper as they hurried forward.

“What’s wrong with Selwyn?” Sirius whispered to him and Harry shook his head mutely.

“I don’t know, one minute we saw this unicorn the next-“

“ _Reducto!_ ” his father’s shout broke into his explanation and Harry heard the high pitched whine of an animal hit with the spell before he turned to them, “Get on my back!” He transformed back into a stag and Harry finally heard the guttural howls of the wolves before he scrabbled onto the stag’s back and Sirius hefted Ginny up towards him.

“Wrap your arm around his neck and don’t let go. Don’t look back, don’t fire any spells. It’s not like riding a horse,” Sirius warned him before he did as he was told. He leaned the back of Ginny’s head on his shoulder and kept her legs firmly locked with his before cautiously leaning down towards Prong’s neck as much as he could without suffocating Ginny and grabbed onto as much coarse fur as he was able to.

“Go!” the howls were getting closer as Sirius shouted before turning back into a dog and barked at them.

Harry nearly lost his purchase as Prongs leap forward, his feet light and rhythmic on the ground. He did not know what it felt like riding a horse, but it most certainly felt different than riding a Thestral. Beside him ran Padfoot, seemingly growling urges for them to move faster and faster. Harry risked one look behind him and gasped as he saw at least twenty wolves, far more than just a pack, pursuing them. They did not look like ordinary wolves and instead acidic-like saliva dripped from their exposed fangs, their eyes a deep shade of glowing red, as if bewitched. Their hides were glowing a dark blue, almost black as the night.

In all of his years at Hogwarts, he had never seen wolves like the ones that were pursuing them and surmised that it had to be an attack by Grindelwald or Voldemort. He could _feel_ the darkness and evil exuding from them. Firenze, Bane, and the other Centaurs, while they tolerated various creatures, would probably have never allowed such foul looking creature within the forest.

He mentally urged the stag to hurry faster, but to his dismay, the bewitched wolves were catching up and Harry knew he had no other choice. Branches and bramble cut into his hands, face and body as he fought to reach his wand.

He released his right hand from Prongs’ neck and made sure Ginny was still within his grasp and drew out his wand. Shifting slightly in his precarious purchase, he turned around just as two wolves leapt up towards him, digging their claws into the rear flank of Prongs. Padfoot immediately counter attacked by leaping up towards one of the wolves and knocked it away and Harry pointed his wand at the other wolf and shouted, “ _Impedimenta!_ ”

The wolf loosened its grip and fell off with a high pitched yelp before Harry directed his wand at the pack who looked like they were about to leap up as a group. Even Padfoot who had fought off the other attacking wolf was bleeding from a nasty wound to his shoulder.

“ _Protego!_ ” he conjured a shield to protect Padfoot as three wolves leapt at him and they bounced off of the shield heavily before falling behind the pack. Harry looked around, he did not know an area effect spell to blast away all of the wolves…

 _But you do_ , Merlin’s influence whispered in his mind…and Harry blinked as he remembered…

“ _Coronum!_ ” he remembered the spell that Merlin had tried to use against Morgana, but it had been ineffective. He did not know what to expect from the spell, but instead goggled as a white blast of light shot forth from the tip of his phoenix-tail wand and hammered the wolves in a wide flat arc.

Prongs gave one final leap over a fallen log and the darkness of the Forbidden Forest was replaced by the starry night of Hogwarts grounds followed by the shouts of numerous spells being fired into the woods. The high pitched squeals and whines of their pursuers followed by the sounds of retreat from the vicious animals told Harry that they had stopped their pursuit and were running away.

Harry felt his breath coming in ragged as Prongs trotted to a stop and he pocketed his wand before sliding off his back. He ignored the sharp stinging pain of the cuts he had received through their wild flight through the Forest and instead, gently pulled Ginny down from Prongs’ back, laying her on the ground before a blink of an eye later, both James and Sirius reverted back to their normal appearance.

Sirius couldn’t contain the grimace of pain from his face from the wound he had received in his Animagus form had transferred over when he turned back into a human. He held his bleeding shoulder and sagged slightly before a pair of strong arms steadied him.

“Easy there,” Marius Sadow’s managed to make sure that Sirius stayed steady on his feet as Peter scrambled up to them, panting from exhaustion.

“Where were you guys?! We were looking for you!” Peter sounded exhausted and for a fleeting second Harry narrowed his eyes in cold anger. Peter had sent the wolves…he had bewitched them, had turned them into raving red-eyed creatures of the night. He had knocked Ginny out-

“Hellhounds,” his father sounded winded and Harry turned slightly to see that he too had been injured. Multiple claw marks were scattered through out his body and Harry realized that those wounds were not from their flight. They were from before even his father had found them, “did they get anyone at Hogsmeade?”

“One girl,” Moody’s gruff voice made him look beyond the small circle to see the leader of the Aurors walking, Crouch Jr. next to him, also looking grim. It was an expression Harry had never seen on Crouch’s face and for a split second, he doubted the words he had said to Dumbledore before he firmed his resolution that Crouch needed watching, especially after assaulting him this morning.

“Come on Merlin, let’s get you back in,” Sirius approached him and pointed his wand at Ginny to float her body once more when Harry shook his head and picked her up gently in his arms.

“People will see,” he knew that a floating Ginny or Selwyn would be detrimental to morale and would also get questions asked.

“Oh,” Sirius put his wand away before following him, one hand still holding his wound as he tried not to let the pain he was feeling show on his face. Behind them, he could almost see Crouch’s mouth moving as if to voice why Ginny was unconscious, but a pointed glare from Moody shut the head Auror up before Moody shoved James, none too lightly towards them to follow them back into Hogwarts.

“What happened?” Harry asked as the three of them trudged back, finally noticing that Aurors were still wandering around the grounds, wands drawn out, looking warily at both the direction of Hogsmeade and at the Forbidden Forest. More than one was injured, though some had waved off their companions for help.

“Hogsmeade was attacked,” Sirius replied, “Sir Godric, Lady Rowena, and Sir Nathan helped out, but we couldn’t find you or Lady Selwyn so we feared the worst. What were you doing in the Forest anyways? I thought the Aurors or at least someone would have told you that it is one of the most dangerous places.”

“Unicorn,” Harry realized his excuse sounded so lame, but he didn’t know anything else, “Selwyn and I were skirting its edges because we did not want to bother Hagrid’s class when a unicorn appeared and the next thing I remember is a white flash of light before it was nightfall and she was on the ground, unconscious.”

He did not miss the significant looks exchanged between his godfather and father and looked at them. “What,” he demanded.

“Can’t be too sure, but we’ll need to ask…err…Lily about it,” Sirius looked away from James’ darkened look at the mention of his wife.

“M-err…Professor Potter?” Harry caught himself in time and felt Merlin’s chiding warning before a tendril of influence was offered to him and he mentally embraced it. He could not slip up at such a time.

They entered the entrance to Hogwarts, ignoring the whispers from some of the Aurors who were stationed in the front, wands held out and headed straight to the Hospital Wing. Harry saw Sirius stop briefly to whisper to one of the Aurors who nodded and sprinted off somewhere in the castle. It still looked the same as usual, and he was mildly surprised to see Madam Pomfrey bustling about, tending to at least several Aurors who looked like the were bearing cut and bite marks from the Hellhounds that had been chasing them.

“Merlin!” Hermione’s voice was laced with the deep tones of Rowena and Harry knew that if she had not had the Dreamer within her, she would have been shouting his name instead.

“What happened?” Ron’s voice cut in, the tone of a brother who was very angry and Harry recoiled as he saw his best friend advance on him, eyes angry as he stared at Ginny who was in his arms.

“I don’t know,” he hastily replied before Ron could accuse him, “one minute we were skirting the edges of the Forbidden Forest and this unicorn appeared the next, a white flash before it was nightfall and we were surrounded by Hellhounds.”

That seemed to sort of calm Ron down somewhat, but he still crossed his arms and shook his head, still angry at him for putting Ginny in danger. “I don’t know what happened to her. She’s not waking up.”

Madam Pomfrey took the opportunity to quickly shoo him away from the bed and began examining Ginny. She also quickly directed two of the nurses that had been helping out with the patients to sit both Sirius and James on the empty beds and to give them potions for their wounds. If it wasn’t so serious, Harry would have smiled at the attempted humor his godfather tried to instill in all of them by flirting with one of the nurses.

His father however, accepted help a bit sullenly, falling back into his melancholy state.

“Well,” Madam Pomfrey spoke up quietly, bringing his gaze back down to her and Ginny, “I can’t tell what’s wrong with her. For all purposes, she seems to be sleeping.”

“She is,” his mother’s voice echoed in the hospital wing, “but it’s not your normal sleep.”

Everyone’s heads, including some of the other patients who had been straining to hear the conversation all stared at her as she stepped into the Hospital Wing, followed quickly by both Snape and Dumbledore and headed straight towards them.

“She is Dreaming,” Lily Potter declared.


	9. The Dreamer of Faith

“She’s what?” Ron was utterly confused and Harry nodded in agreement.

“She’s Dreaming,” Lily looked at them as if expecting them to understand what she said and Harry realized something. The way she said dreaming…

“Our powers are not working correctly when we got to your world,” he offered up as an explanation to his mother and comprehension filled her face.

“Ah,” was all she said before she knelt down by Ginny’s bed and picked up a limp hand, “she’s currently awakening to her full powers as the Dreamer of Faith. It would also explain why the Hellhounds attacked Hogsmeade.”

“But we weren’t at Hogsmeade,” Harry did not understand where his mother was going with this.

“You weren’t?” Lily looked puzzled and glanced at Sirius. Harry noted that she pointedly avoided his father’s cheerless stare.

“We found them in the Forbidden Forest when a large pack of them left Hogsmeade and headed towards the grounds,” Sirius explained, trying to rotate his arm, but the nurse that had been attending him firmly put a hand on his wounded shoulder to stop his motion. She then shoved a potion into his free hand and he gulped it down, making a face before handing the empty bottle back to her. “I thought they smelled like wolves until I caught something different in their scent. The Dark Lord’s improved on this batch of Hellhounds.”

“It also means someone already sent notice to him about our visitors,” Dumbledore murmured quietly before glancing at Snape who tilted his head in acknowledgment and suddenly swept out of the room. Harry watched him leave and had no doubt that Snape was off to confirm the Headmaster’s suspicions. A feeling he couldn’t quite identify welled up in his gut…on one hand, he was glad that Severus Snape was a spy for Dumbledore in this world, but the other hand still felt so betrayed at the fact that Snape was still serving the same capacity and for all he knew, could be under orders once again to kill Dumbledore or anyone who would end up blowing his cover.

“I don’t get it,” Neville spoke up and Harry turned his head to see him lying on the bed next to Ginny’s, his leg propped up in a cast. “Don’t worry about it…Merlin,” Neville noticed his surprised expression and managed not to spill his name out, “twisted my ankle helping some escape from the Hellhounds. Professor, how do Hellhounds and Dreamers relate?”

“Hellhounds are the Dark Lord’s creatures who were specifically genetically engineered through both Muggle means and magical means to hunt down the Dreamers who oppose him,” Lily looked at no spot in particular on Ginny’s bed sheets, her voice distant, “more specifically they hunt down the Virtues, but there has been twice that he has hunted down his own men and women who were Dreamers. More recently was the Black Queen ten years ago.”

“Wait,” Harry wrinkled his brow, “so you’re saying that Grindelwald-“ He ignored the flinches of everyone save for Dumbledore and oddly curiously, his father, “-sent these Hellhounds to Hogsmeade, because he knew that Selwyn was going to awaken to her Dreamer powers?”

“That seems to be the gist of it,” Dumbledore looked troubled.

“But…how? I mean, how could he have known? And how did you know that she was awakening to her powers today?” he looked at his mother, utterly baffled.

“We didn’t,” Lily met his green-eyed gaze with one of her own, “I was only told by one of the Aurors that you said Lady Selwyn and yourself had encountered a unicorn in the Forbidden Forest in the afternoon. The symbol and the awakening of the Dreamer of Faith is a unicorn’s touch…”

“So…” he glanced down at Ginny, “she’s the Dreamer of Faith?”

“It seems so,” his mother gave a ghost of a smile at him, “even though my powers have been dwindling for a long time and have all but disappeared in the past few years, I still can sense where my powers have gone. I am surprised that you did not realize your Knight was the Dreamer of Faith, though.”

Harry knew immediately he was trapped by her question. He frantically queried Merlin and felt his influence coloring his words, “Professor, you must understand, in our times, we did not have names for the other Dreamer powers as you have them now. We have only identified Fears because it is so obvious at what Queen Mab and Morgana Le Faye were trying to do. Mr. Potter’s identification of the Dreamer of Courage within Godric is a fair assessment of what my friend does to our troops in battle. He gives them courage and rallies them to fight.”

“Fair assessment,” there was no smile on her face, but her eyes seemed to twinkle a bit with mirth. However, Harry had a bad feeling that his mother still had questions for him and just didn’t quite believe his answer. Of all the stories everyone told him about Lily Potter, the ones about her being the brightest witch of her age were apparently true. It was like meeting another Hermione Granger, except perhaps just a little bit scarier.

“She’ll wake up, won’t she?” Ron asked, looking worriedly at his sister.

“In due time,” Lily replied, “It took me, I think, a week to wake up when I first received my Dreamer powers.”

“A week?!” Ron now looked extremely worried.

“Though I believe it may be shorter for Lady Selwyn because it would perhaps be a reawakening of her powers instead of a full awakening,” his mother nodded mostly to herself and Harry somehow doubted her words. However, he just gave her a smile and nodded in agreement, knowing that there was no other way without trapping himself and his friends.

The door to the hospital wing opened once more and all turned to see Remus slipping in, looking worst for wear. Harry instinctively glanced outside through the windows, but saw that the moon was not even full, only a quarter moon instead.

“Minister,” Remus greeted Dumbledore quietly before glancing over to where Ginny laid and a smile appeared on his face, “Ah…I thought I felt something during the battle.”

“Well?” Dumbledore asked and Remus turned to face him, but Harry noted that his body posture suggested that he wanted of the Order members who were crowded around Ginny’s bed to also hear what he was going to say. It was then that he noticed that the other Aurors and a couple of wayward students were trying to listen in on their conversation but somehow could not hear them as if someone had cast a spell over the group. Some had already given up, turning around in their beds to sleep, while others, especially the students that had been caught up in the battle, were desperately trying every spell they could think of to listen in.

“Dunloff Village,” Remus replied, “I’ve sent notice to Kingsley and Amelia about it. Marion is currently leading a couple of Aurors there to see what we can find.”

“That’s close to here,” Sirius scratched his chin, “about a day’s journey. How would the Dark Lord know, Minister?”

Dumbledore shook his head, lost in thought and Harry wondered if the Headmaster was keeping secrets or did he really not know. “I am hoping Severus will have some answers when he returns. But I suggest at this time that we let Lord Hufflepuff, and Lady Selwyn rest.”

There was a slight protest from Ron, but he realized that he was being selfish and instead nodded and got up along with Hermione, slapping hands together with Neville as Dumbledore and his mother left, his mother not acknowledging his father who was now propped up on a bed, bandages covering some of his wounds as she walked out. However Remus bid both of them farewell before following them out.

“You coming?” Hermione’s hand was on his shoulder and he glanced up at both her and Ron and shook his head slightly before gesturing to Ginny and his best friends nodded before heading out quietly, saying their goodbyes to both Sirius and James.

Silence fell once again in the hospital wing, punctuated by occasional snores or stifled cries of pain from some of the other occupants in the beds, but Harry picked up Ginny's hand and absently grasped it. They were in a world with unknown magic swirling with them, magic he knew would be able to help them, but he did not know if it will harm them in the long run. They had arrived in a world where there were two Dark Lords to contend with, a world where fear ruled it, suffering prevailed, and everyone they had knew were but only shadows of themselves.

They had arrived and they did not know how to get back home. “How did we get ourselves into this,” he murmured mostly to himself, but for Ginny's benefit as well.

“She'll be all right,” his father's voice sounded haggard, but it was surprisingly gentle. However, Harry heard an undercurrent of weariness in them and he turned slightly to see James staring at him with an unreadable expression as he laid propped up on his pillows. Beside him, Sirius was sleeping on his side, the blankets covering half up his wounded arm, his eyes closed.

He had a sneaking suspicion that Sirius was not really asleep, but was listening in quietly to whatever James had to say.

“When...my wife,” Harry hated seeing the pain spring to his father's eyes as he mentioned Lily, “became the Dreamer of Faith, it was around Christmastime of our seventh year.”

Harry wanted to ask more, but he felt an urge of caution from the Dreamer influence and knew that if he interrupted James at this time, then he would never hear the rest of the story. So he waited patiently, all the while absently stroking Ginny's hand.

“Back then, it was Voldemort who was harassing us under Grindelwald's orders. I don't think he was the Black King yet, but rather, the newspapers gave him the name of Black Knight. It was his job to make sure he was the face of the attacks, or at least that's the Black Knight's job,” James looked down at his half-bandaged hands, turning them over as if he had never seen them before, “he was also known as the Dreamer of Corruptions back then too, having the ability to grant the deepest wishes of anyone who encountered him and thus, corrupted the person to the Death Eaters.”

“Is he still...?” Harry asked quietly.

“No,” James shook his head, “it was after...” He saw his father grimace and fall silent for a few minutes, looking gutted and Harry realized that it was after October 31st, 1981 that Voldemort no longer was the Dreamer of Corruptions.

“Were there Hellhounds involved?” he asked, trying to bring the conversation back to when Lily became the Dreamer of Faith instead of having his father relive what had to be the horrible memories of Halloween 1981.

His father gave a little shudder as he tried to regain his composure and nodded. “My wife...she wasn't my wife at that time, but we were seeing each other. She, Sirius, Remus, even Peter were all over my house for the festivity.” He drew in a noisy breath and pursed his lips for a few seconds before clenching his fists as much as he could with his bandages.

“I was so afraid when she touched the unicorn and fell immediately unconscious. Like you, I was standing next to her and the last thing I remember was a white flash of light, then she was on the snowy ground, not moving. I thought we had been attacked...” He snorted, his voice dulling slightly with pain and an undercurrent of anger. “No, the real attack came about a week later...”

“The Hellhounds,” Harry said quietly and saw his father nod.

“The Hellhounds,” he echoed, “my parents...”

Harry instantly realized what had happened. His own paternal grandparents in this world had died when the Hellhounds attacked Godric's Hollow. “I'm sorry...”

James shook his head, bringing his eyes up, but he wasn't staring at anything in particular. Instead, tears had fallen down his face and he gave a pained laugh, “We should have died that day. Only Lily...she saved us. She woke up and saved us with her powers.”

As Harry stared at the broken shell that was his father in this world, he realized that James still held onto a shred of love that he still had for his mother. He still loved her dearly, but whatever had happened between them had driven such a rift through them that they couldn't stand each other anymore. As he realized this, part of him wanted to cry at such a scene. He had grown up unloved and without parents, save for perhaps Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, even Sirius and Remus though they tried to be parents to him...he did not want to see such a thing. It _hurt_...

“Merlin,” he looked at his father again as he sagged against his pillows, “we've only known each other for less than three days, but don't take offense when I say this. Don't let _her_ go...whatever happens...”

Harry realized his father had fallen into an uneasy sleep after a few minutes of silence and stole a quick glance to Sirius' unmoving form just in time to see the corner of his lips quirk up into a smile before he too shifted slightly to get more comfortable before falling asleep. He stared down at Ginny's hand in his own and sighed. Somehow, he knew how hard it was for his father to confess such a thing to him, a total stranger in this world.

And he truly appreciated it...

* * *

Morning found Harry in the form of a very annoying sliver of light that seemed to hit directly into his right eye even if he shifted uncomfortably in the chair he had fallen asleep on while watching over Ginny during the night. He only awakened with a start and a crack of his eye to see Ron peering over him, a crooked smile on his face before he adjust the empty potion bottle to shine into his other eye.

“Geroff...” he grunted as he tried to bat away the annoying source of sunlight-in-his-eye but found that his hands were somewhat restrained under a thin blanket that someone had draped over him during the night. “I'm up, I'm up,” he muttered, bringing his hands out from underneath and stretched, yawning widely. He winced as he brought his neck the opposite way of the direction he had fallen asleep in and worked it around quickly to get the stiffness out of it.

A small snicker of laughter made him glance over to see Sirius covering a laugh behind his hand as the pretty nurse that had been attending to him yesterday was checking his wound once more. “Ha, ha, very funny Sirius,” he grumbled before glaring at Ron. “Nice wake up call.”

“Well you didn't come back to the Room last night and so I was worried, but Rowena said we should leave you alone; like I'm leaving you alone with Selwyn,” it was Ron's voice, but every time he said their names, he heard an undercurrent of Godric's boisterous tone and realized that the Dreamer within Ron was desperately trying to keep him from spilling their names and was probably harried by the effort. “So as any good brother would do, I came to make sure you weren't doing any funny stuff.”

“Godric!” Harry was about to shout his best friend's name when he felt Merlin's influence asserting itself to keep him from spilling Ron's true name, “we weren't doing any funny stuff.”

“Good,” Ron grumbled mostly to himself and Harry shook his head. Sometimes big brothers could be so protective. He knew that such a thing was to happen if he went out with Ginny, but it was still annoying. “By the way, you need a bath...no offense, but your robe is still covered in blood and you smell funny.”

“Thanks,” Harry took a quick sniff at himself and to his chagrin, he was still covered in blood, some of it his from the cuts and scratches he had received during their flight from the Forbidden Forest, others from either Prongs or even the Hellhounds that had been pursuing them. He glanced at Ginny and was reluctant to leave her, but he also knew that if his mother said it took her a week to wake up, then there was the chance Ginny wouldn't wake up in the next few days.

He got up, hastily folding the blanket that had been draped over him and placed it on the chair. Turning to Sirius he saw that his godfather was now occupied with flirting some more with the nurse attending to him and resisted the urge to shake his head. A quick glance at his father told him that he was still sleeping, but his features, instead of sullen or pained looks was surprisingly very peaceful.

A small smile worked its way up his face before he glanced down at Ginny once more, silently promising to visit her in the afternoon and followed Ron out of the hospital wing.

Their journey back to the Room of Requirement was unfortunately marred by curious students who were on their way to classes and had stared mostly at him and his bloodied and unkempt appearance. Harry wanted to shy away at such looks, but resigned himself to the pointing and whispering. It was only when they passed by a large group of sixth-years that Ron had turned around and shouted at them to stop staring and said that it was from yesterday's battle before everyone else hurried away.

He had shot Ron a grateful look before they entered the Room, finding that no one else was in it.

“Neville's down with Sprout in Herbology...Hermione I think is in Ancient Runes or was it Muggle Studies, not too sure, but I think I'm going to Lupin's class for a while. You going to be okay?”

“Yeah,” Harry was grateful for all of the clothes that Hermione and Ginny had brought yesterday and quickly picked out a simpler robe. He did not want to wear anything elaborate like yesterday and opted to wear jeans and tee shirt underneath the simple robe.

“Probably going to visit Potions or something,” he had to admit, he wouldn't voluntarily go to Potions most of the time, but a part of him was curious about Severus Snape in this world. He wanted to know why the man his mother was having an affair with would be so civil towards him.

“You mental?” even Ron thought he was crazy and he shrugged.

“If he was Dumbledore's man in our world, I want to know if he is in this world,” Harry replied.

“Do you reckon he's back from wherever Dumbledore sent him then?” Ron asked and Harry paused at the threshold of the boys’ bathroom. He hadn't thought of that...

“I dunno,” he replied, “but I guess we can check...maybe?”

“All right,” Ron looked unsure, but Harry slipped into the bathroom and quickly showered, changed, and brushed his teeth in the span of less than ten minutes before stepping back out again, feeling a little better now that he did smell like dried blood and animal sweat.

“Here,” Ron tossed him a piece of fruit as soon as he stepped out and he caught it, “you missed breakfast.”

“Oh,” making sure that his moleskin bag was secure underneath his pillow, he realized that he still needed to organize his clothes lying on his bed and stuff his invisibility cloak in a safer spot. Munching on the fruit as they headed out of the Room, he and Ron parted company shortly after, Harry heading down to the dungeons where he hoped Potions class was still being held.

He opened the door a crack and slipped in, noting that it was a N.E.W.T seventh-year class of students who were all absorbed in the lecture that was being given, but to his surprise, it wasn't Snape who was doing the lecturing, but rather his mother. He had forgotten that Slughorn had praised his mother as a natural in Potions and would be the natural candidate to take over whenever Snape was away, especially since he had not seen Slughorn at the teacher's table during lunch yesterday.

If Lily Potter was bothered by him slipping in, she never acknowledged it, and even had brought a few curious heads who turned to see who slipped in back around with her lecture. Harry hovered in the back, standing on tip-toes to peer at a Ravenclaw's copy of Advance Potion Making II book to see that the students were working on Wolfsbane Potion.

“Now,” his mother's voice was gentle, but held a firmness that he had long recognized to be similar to Professor McGonagall's lectures, “your Wolfsbane will be fed to Professor Lupin so if you should see it amusing to not brew it correctly, you may be facing an irate werewolf come the next full moon. And trust me; it is no laughing matter, especially for you Mr. Malfoy.”

Harry immediately looked to his right and to his dismay; Draco Malfoy was amongst a small group of Slytherins standing at the edges of the group, hiding their laughter. For a moment, he had forgotten that he was in another world, had forgotten that this Malfoy was very different than the Malfoy of his world. He just stared at the blond-haired man and all the memories of what had occurred in Malfoy Manor and during the Battle for Hogwarts came rushing at him along with his anger and annoyance.

He hadn't realize he was lost in his memories until a none too gentle shove in his mind from the Dreamer made him start, just as the students headed to their own cauldrons to attempt to make a Wolfsbane Potion. Harry bit his lip as he realized he was standing in the middle of the classroom full of students who only just realized he was observing them and hurried over to where his mother stood a wiry smile on her lined face.

“Excuse me Professor-”

“Call me Lily, Merlin. Otherwise, you'll start sounding like my students,” she smiled and for the first time Harry noticed that while age had treated her well, even though she was in her late thirties, she still had age lines across her face, a testimony of the war that everyone was in.

“Lily,” he nodded, still feeling a bit odd to call his mother by her name. “Sorry for not letting you know in advance. I was looking for Professor Snape.”

“I'm sure the Headmaster told you,” his mother leaned down to whisper to him, “that he is away on business at the moment.”

Harry nodded indicating that he understood what she was saying before she straightened and gave him a wide smile, “But you are more than welcomed to observe my students. Tell me, there are no recorded histories, but you were a great potions maker were you not?”

Harry nearly fell flat on his face and instead, felt heat rise to his face before looking away, “I wasn't that great...had help. Rowena was much better at potion making.” He did not dare mention the Half-Blood Prince's Potion book that had even been better than what Hermione could conjure up in their sixth-year N.E.W.T. class.

However, his mother did not reprimand him nor berate him as he was sure Snape would have, but instead nodded with understanding. “Well then treat this as a class of your own if you would like. Do you know anything about the Wolfsbane potion?”

Harry opened his mouth to say that he did when he realized that Wolfsbane had been a fairly recent invention, not even created back when his parents were students at Hogwarts, evident by his father and his friends turning into Animagus every full moon to accompany Remus in the Shrieking Shack. Instead, he ventured a guess, “I overheard you say something about werewolves and Professor Lupin?”

“Yes I did,” she gave him a serious look, “it is common knowledge that Professor Lupin is a werewolf and while many parents of the students here have been writing Minister Dumbledore for the potential dangers, I and other believe that Professor Lupin means no harm to students each time he transforms.”

“Werewolves don't have a choice...a few of the men and women who serve in our armies are werewolves and they have been instrumental in the war,” Harry made up the fact on the spot and hoped that his mother would not question his lie. He felt a faint line of amusement from Merlin, but nothing else that would indicate that it was true if werewolves served his army.

His mother seemed pleased with his answer and apparent lack of prejudice and nodded eagerly before gesturing to a bottle she had on her desk. Harry noted that it looked a little like thin tar with glittering rocks in it. No wonder Remus looked ill each time he had to drink it. He bet it wasn't pleasant tasting either. His expression must have shown on his face as his mother laughed and scooped up the potion into her hands and gave it to him to hold.

“Wolfsbane prevents the dementia associated with transformation from human to werewolf. It doesn't prevent the actual werewolf, but it at least lets a human retain his mental faculties while he is in this state. Your expression to it is exactly like Remus'...” she explained as he uncorked the potion and sniffed it, nose wrinkling in disgust at the sulfuric smell it gave off.

“Severus and I take turns making batches. I try to add a bit of mint sprigs to make it go down easier, but as you can see, this is one of Sev's batch,” she sighed, taking the bottle back and corking it, “he makes it practical and to the point.”

It was eerie to hear his mother refer to the man he had hated for most of his life as “Sev” and to hear the loving tone with it too. It stabbed at him like a knife in his heart that his mother did not love his father anymore, yet still stayed married to him. His father was another story. It was obvious that he still held a candle for her, however much it hurt him and somehow, he wanted to blame his mother for all of this, but he knew he couldn't. Not when he did not know what had drove them apart or for the fact that he still felt so much love for his mother, alive in this world.

“So,” she handed him a small textbook already flipped to the page, “here's a copy of the textbook. Would you like to help me observe the students' progress? Since you now know the smell and quality of the potion, another set of eyes would be helpful.”

“Um, ah, sure,” Harry accepted the book and glanced down at it, noting that there weren't a lot of ingredients to make Wolfsbane, but it did take a long time. In fact, it listed that it took at least two weeks to brew one batch of Wolfsbane. He quickly read over the initial Day One directions and noted what color and smell it was supposed to give off before glancing up at the students.

He immediately recoiled slightly as he saw two giggling Hufflepuff girls staring at him through their cauldron, hoping that he would be able to observe their work. At least, it wasn't as bad as Romilda's hungry gaze on the Quidditch pitch. He glanced over to where his mother was peeking at Malfoy and the other Slytherins' cauldrons and gave a soft sigh, resigning himself to start with the two Hufflepuff girls. At least he didn't have to get near Malfoy...

* * *

By the time lunch arrived, Harry was still coughing from the smoke of a first year Gryffindor's exploding cauldron. Even his mother was still coughing from the fumes as they extricated themselves from the dungeons and headed up towards the Great Hall for lunch. Lily had cast a couple of cleaning charms on his robes and her robes before the entered the Great Hall, but couldn't really do anything to half of his soot-covered face from the exploding cauldron.

Said little Gryffindor that had caused the explosion cowered in her seat as he swept by, trying to wipe off the grimy soot before he took a seat next to Neville and Ron, both of whom stared at him. “Potions, exploding cauldron,” he grumbled before gratefully accepting a wet cloth napkin from Hermione and scrubbed his face hard.

“Eh, a little better,” Neville shook his head at him as he put the napkin down and glanced at the amount of food in front of them.

He quickly dug into the food, feeling famished as the fruit that Ron had swiped for him in the morning had barely tided him through all three Potions classes he had observed in the morning. He had to admit, it was the first time in a long while that he truly enjoyed Potions class and suspected part of it was because he had spent so much time with his mother. She was an excellent teacher, neither condescending as Snape, nor strict as McGonagall. But instead, her teaching style was very similar to Remus'.

“I had a chance to talk to my Runes Professor, and he said there may be something in one of his textbooks regarding alternate and parallel universes. I'm hoping to go back after lunch to help him look for it,” Hermione said to them and Harry felt a spark of hope that was quickly replaced by guilt.

This was exactly what he wanted to avoid. He could feel himself getting too attached to the world. The time he had spent with his mother felt so new, so invigorating... He glanced and Neville and to his surprise saw that he took looked a bit guilty. Surely Neville couldn't feel too sorry having spent so much time in Herbology...

“My Mum's there...that's her usual patrol area,” Neville looked at him and whispered.

“Oh,” Harry understood exactly where Neville was coming from. The two of them had grown up parent less and both had taken the opportunity to spend time with their hale and healthy parents in this world. Both of them felt the same twinge of guilt, the pull of staying in this world while Hermione was talking about potentially finding something to get them home.

Any other conversation between the four of them was cut off as a bunch of owls flew into the Great Hall, delivering parcels and parchments to various students and a few teachers too. Harry felt a pang of sorrow as he thought about Hedwig, but his sorrow was gone in an instant as the cry of a falcon brought his head up to see its distinct mottling color flying directly towards them, five envelopes attached to its leg.

The cry of the falcon brought everyone's attention to the bird that landed neatly on the table before sticking its leg out, glaring at them imperiously. Harry quickly untied the envelopes and the bird flew off without another word. He glanced at the small pile and saw in an elegant handwriting Merlin, Lady Rowena Ravenclaw, Lord Godric Gryffindor, Lady Selwyn of the High Elves, and last but not least, Lord Nathan Hufflepuff.

He distributed the other envelopes to his friends, keeping Ginny's with his own before flipping his own over and stared at the seal. It looked vaguely familiar as he cracked it open and took out the letter.

_To Merlin,_

_With the utmost of respect and honor to you, I bid you welcome to our world and would wish you the best of good fortune to return to your world and home. As you enjoy your stay here, it is my pleasure to extend an invitation to you and your companions to attend the annual Founders' Ball._

_We shall be expecting your company at the Durningshire Manor on July 2_ _nd_ _, 1998 at seven-thirty._

_Sincerely,_

_Lucius Malfoy_

_Minister of Magic_

Harry stared at the invitation, his mind racing. He knew the moment that they were introduced to the school that word would get back to the other Ministry, the puppet Ministry. After all, there were definitely Death Eater children at the school, but he did not expect any letters or even an invitation to something called the Founders' Ball to arrive until next week. A day had only passed since they had met the school and here were five gleaming invitations from none other than Lucius Malfoy.

He quickly glanced down towards the House tables and noticed that Draco Malfoy was chatting animatedly to Iris Potter, looking completely unconcerned. Most of the students, while looking curiously at them had opted to fill their stomach once the falcon had left.

“Blimey...is this real?” Ron breathed out quietly, “Founders' Ball...Durningshire Manor, where is that anyways...?”

“May I see that, Lady Ravenclaw?” Dumbledore peered down at them and plucked the open invitation from Hermione's fingers, reading it quickly.

“Sir, is it a trap?” Hermione sounded worried.

Dumbledore's expression did not change one bit as he folded the invitation and handed it back to Hermione. However, the twinkle in his eyes were gone, “Speak of this to no one until I have a chance to talk with you. All of you, please meet met in my office after classes are completed for the afternoon.”

“Sir?” Harry was now really concerned.

“It is not a trap, but it may be a blessing in disguise. I will need to find a little more information and verify it before I can tell you what it is,” Dumbledore reassured them and Harry glanced at the others before reluctantly pocketing the invitation and finishing his meal.

As soon as he finished, he hurried towards the hospital wing once more, hoping that Ginny had awakened. His friends followed him at slower pace, Neville coming last as he still hobbled around on a boot, but was feeling much better after a night's rest in the hospital wing and full of healing potions that Madam Pomfrey had given to him the night before.

“No change,” Madam Pomfrey had seen them coming and approached them shaking her head, “I'm sorry.”

“Oh...is it okay if we stay with her for a little bit?” Ron looked disappointed, but brightened as the head nurse nodded.

Harry hung back, letting Ron and Hermione pull chairs up to sit by Ginny's side as Neville hopped onto another bed to have Madam Pomfrey check his ankle. He glanced over to the other side of the hospital wing, noting that Sirius was not in bed, probably having recovered nicely, but his father was still there, and his bandages looked like they were freshly changed. James looked like he was asleep, but Harry saw his eyes crack slightly open at their entrance.

Deciding to leave his friends alone, he headed over to where his father laid and pulled up a chair, sliding into it. “You were more injured than you let on yesterday,” he said quietly and saw his father open his eyes and stare at him, his face expressionless.

“Wasn't a big deal,” his father shifted slightly.

“Thank you,” Harry wanted to get rid of the defeated tone he heard in his father's voice. He wanted him to be confident, self-assured, the man that Sirius and Remus had told him that he was, the fearless, if somewhat cocky, man who had won his mother's heart. The good-hearted Gryffindor that had saved Severus Snape's life a long time ago. The man that everyone said he was...not this shell of a broken man.

Suddenly Harry wanted to get rid of the Merlin persona, wanted to drop it from his mind. He did not care if he was a Dreamer or whatever influence he had within him. He wanted to be just Harry Potter. The boy who had lost his parents at the tender age of one, but had found them again, alive in this world. The boy who wanted nothing more than to have a heart-to-heart talk with his father. He wanted to get to know his parents, get to know the family he never had.

“You okay?” his father's quiet inquiry startled him from his thoughts and he realized his face had scrunched up somewhat in his despair.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” he hastily scrubbed his face and glanced at his robe and noted that he still had some gunky soot on his face. “First year Gryffindor, Potions. Exploding cauldron,” he laughed hesitantly and to his surprise saw a ghost of a smile on his father's face.

“Not quite the way you were greeted, right?” James seemed to relax just a hair and Harry nodded.

“Yeah, definitely not,” he replied, “though there was this one time where Nathan was learning from Rowena how to make a potion and it happened to explode in his face and nearly took my head off when the cauldron went flying.” Harry embellished the story of Neville's first year in Snape's class and was rewarded with his father's smile getting just a bit wider.

“Flying cauldrons aside, I heard from Sirius that you gave Hooch a run for her money. She was raving to him about how you could play Seeker for one of the Hogwarts teams if you were a student,” James looked at him and Harry grinned.

“I missed it. I guess I kind of went overboard yesterday during the race,” Harry shrugged, “I read about Quidditch and it seems like a position I would try for if I were a student.” He could feel Merlin's caution not to spill too much about how much he knew about Quidditch, but ignored it. “Overheard that you were once a Quidditch player yourself...”

“That was a long time ago,” the smile on his father's face died a little but he didn't stop, “Gryffindor, Chaser position. Won the House Cup a few times during my years there.”

“Want to race?” the words were out of Harry's mouth before he could stop them and he clicked his mouth shut, wondering if he had pushed his luck too far with his father.

James just stared at him for a few seconds before nodding, “Sure...why not.”

Harry felt an overwhelming sense of joy fill him as he knew he had succeeded in breaking some of the ice that had wrapped his father so tightly.

“Selwyn?” Ron's voice was overlade with Godric's and Harry felt the joy within him instantly evaporate as he turned in his seat to see him shaking his sister's shoulder.

Ginny suddenly sat up in her bed, her eyes open, but shining white, “ _They're already here..._ ”

Her ominous words reverberated in the room just as Harry heard several high pitch screams outside on the grounds. He clapped his hands to his ears as the screams continued, seemingly inhuman and unlike anything he had heard. It was worst that the mermaids screeching singing.

“Hellhounds?” he asked his father and noticed that he had paled considerably.

“No,” he shook his head, “Faydes.”


	10. Fayding Recruitment

Harry had scrambled out of the chair he was occupying and ran towards the windows, peering out. He could not see anything, as if a magical fog had appeared and surrounded the castle and grounds, blotting out the sun. It looked so eerily like the prelude to a dementor attack, but Harry could feel no chill, nor the phantom screams of his mother dying in his head.

“Selwyn! Wait!” Ron’s shout made him turn around just in time to see Ginny rise up from her bed, still dressed in pale hospital robes and walk quickly out, Ron and Hermione both scrambling to try to grab the edges of her robe to stop her, but their hands couldn’t grasp anything.

For a split second, Harry clearly saw the High Elf Selwyn overlaid with Ginny’s startling cool, yet angel-like features as she walked out of the hospital wing. Selwyn looked magnificently beautiful, powerful, every inch the warrior that had defied her parents and ran away from the Glade and her duties as High Princess of the Rumeni Glade. He saw the lines of battle across her face, the weariness she carried within herself, the exhaustion of fighting day after day against the forces of evil who threatened the world.

He saw how she died, killed by Nimue in a fit of jealousy, how she had wasted away, pining for her love of Merlin, yet unable to do anything as he was bewitched by the Lady of the Lake. Hers was a heartbreaking story of love found and love lost and he saw all of that in the split second before the door closed behind her, snapping Harry back into reality.

However while his mind’s eye was seeing all of that, his body was already on the move, having been partially taken over by Merlin’s influence to get him to chase down Ginny and Harry sent a grateful thought to the influence. He and Ron nearly collided in the middle of the hospital wing as they ran towards the door and exited the hospital wing, Hermione on their heels. Neville’s shout was all but ignored as they dashed out of the castle, pushing past a few bewildered and frightened students who were rushing into the castle following the trail of Ginny’s hospital robes.

“Selwyn!” Harry shouted, also hearing Merlin’s concern for his _leftenant_. He did not know what Faydes were, but he knew that Ginny running into the eerie magical fog was not a good idea. Merlin heartily agreed with him in his head.

“Merlin what are-“

“Hey!”

“Move!” Harry shouted, shoving a blonde-haired female Auror over to the side as he pushed past the guards at the front door of the castle, ignoring the startled cries of some of the teachers who were helping the students still outside evacuate inside. He glimpsed Alice Longbottom, hurrying children from the greenhouses along with Professor Sprout and a couple of other Aurors, but his eyes were still focused on the back of Ginny, her pale green hospital robes flowing behind her as she ran deeper into the unnatural fog.

“Wait! Wait! Those are Faydes!” McGongall’s call went unheeded as he, Ron, and Hermione charged after her.

Harry thought they had probably ran to Hagrid’s hut when he suddenly stopped, nearly crashing into the back of Ginny as she stopped, the fog enveloping them, licking their feet, head, skin, surrounding them like a blanket.

“Ginny?” he whispered cautiously, reaching a hand out to her before she suddenly turned to him and he recoiled.

Her eyes were a blinding white. He could not see her pupils behind them, but somehow, she was staring at him, a half-smile on her face. Her features looked more like Selwyn’s at this close range and he wondered if Selwyn had completely taken over Ginny, possessing her. But Ginny had said that she and her Dreamer persona had worked out things a couple of nights ago…

“Harry,” if anything, Ginny’s voice sounded normal, if more ethereal and he figured it was probably Selwyn who was also talking, “you should not be here.”

“But-“

“Grindelwald does not send Faydes for any purpose. He knows you are here. He knows you are Hopes, and he knows you do not fight alone,” it was frightening to see Ginny speaking like this, seemingly filled with more knowledge of the war that engulfed this world than they knew.

“Ginny, what can you do?” Hermione whispered her hands close to her mouth, frightened.

“I am Faith,” she tilted her head at them and smiled, not a scary one, but one that was kind. One that truly showed who Ginny Weasley was and who Lady Selwyn of the High Elves was. “I understand now, you see, I was confused before. I understand what I have to do and what I need to do. We are protectors and we are guardians. We must guide our selves to take up the mantle of this world or else all will be lost.”

“Ginny...” Ron looked scared, “you're not-”

“You will understand soon enough,” Ginny looked at her brother, “you have awakened, but you have not fully embraced your powers. Godric protects you, but he cannot become you.”

“Cannot become...” Harry couldn't blame his best friend for his flabbergasted look, even he was starting to become a bit wary of Ginny and the thought crossed his mind on whether or not to stun her. However, they were in this unnatural fog and he had a feeling the Faydes were causing the event. “Ginny!” Ron suddenly grabbed Ginny's hand and just as suddenly tumbled backwards onto the ground, as if shocked.

“Ron!” Hermione immediately knelt by his side, checking his pulse as little curls of smoke rose from his body. “He's...he's alive...Ron, oh Ron!”

“What did you-?” Harry whirled around to face Ginny when he froze as he saw a tattered black...thing...emerge from the fog, hovering over the ground. It looked similar to a dementor, but instead of skeletal hands and cold feeling, it looked like a heap of black rags. Its head, if it could be called that, was part of the mass of rags, and two white -like things he thought were probably its eyes peered out from the folds. They stared hungrily and Harry fumbled for his wand before drawing it out.

He felt a trickle of fear run through him like sweat down his back, whatever Faydes were, they did not exist in their world and he had no idea what kind of spell would be effective against them. He certainly did not feel the happiness drain away from him like dementors, but it was unnerving to see such a pile of rag-like things emerging from the fog. Suddenly the lead Fayde of the emerging group opened its maw, right below the white eyes and Harry could see rows upon rows of sharp razor-like teeth in them and screamed.

Harry somehow knew that at point-blank range, the scream of a Fayde should have made him, Hermione, and Ginny writhe on the ground in pain. It should have somehow killed them. He did not know why he knew this and suspected that Merlin may have had a hand in such knowledge, but all he knew at that moment was that the sound was oddly muffled, as if listening to it underwater from far away.

_Faith..._

That was it. He had to have faith that Ginny knew what she was doing. She needed their trust and support. She wanted them to know that she was still the same Ginny, the same girl he had come to love and admire. The same girl who loved him unconditionally, understood who he was and what he had to do when he left her at the end of the school year a year ago. The same girl who had completely understood why he needed to go on his year-long quest to destroy the Horcruxes and ultimately kill Voldemort.

_Faith..._

Harry stared at Ginny, who was standing in front of the lead Fayde, her eyes a blazing white. They were protected by her newly awakened powers, he realized. Her powers as the Dreamer of Faith was acting like a shield to the deadly cry of a Fayde.

“ _Stop_ ,” it was one word, but to him, sounded like a command from Ginny and to his surprise he saw the Faydes close their mouths, staring at them through their floating mass of rags with baleful white eyes.

Just then, a seemingly sucking sound emerged from the lead Fayde's mouth and Harry realized the dark creature was drawing breath to speak. “Our master seeks an alliance with you, will you consider it?”

It was almost impossible to decipher the Fayde's words from the vacuum sound it make to draw breath and speak, but Harry started. Grindelwald wanted an alliance with them?

“ _Why have you attacked us?_ ” Ginny asked quietly, but imperiously. “ _One who seeks such an alliance would never attack their potential ally first. Your master has no wish to seek such an alliance if this is how he conducts himself._ ”

“Lies,” the Fayde replied, “we were attacked first.”

Harry could scarcely believe it, but Ginny tilted her head, staring at the dark creature for a few minutes before nodding reluctantly.

“G-...Selwyn, you can't believe them?!” Harry felt Merlin's influence take over him, preventing him from saying her name like he had been for the past few minutes when he felt a tendril of caution from the Dreamer influence. He wondered why, but the influence kept a hold on him, urging caution in his words.

“ _She is correct_ ,” Neville's voice, altered by Nathan Hufflepuff spoke up behind them and Harry whirled around, surprised to see Neville limping towards them, hampered slightly by his boot. The fog had parted enough for him to appear and curled around him, seemingly embracing him into their folds. “ _Her Faith allows her to perceive the truth in the words of others. I too sense that these creatures have been speaking the truth. They were attacked first._ ”

“But...” Harry trailed off lamely, staring down at Ron's unconscious form, then to Hermione who shook her head, bewildered as he was, then to Neville whose eyes were not shining white like Ginny's, but instead shone a golden-yellow. When did Neville awaken to his Dreamer powers was beyond him at the moment, but he felt so confused. For the first time in a long time, he felt powerless to do anything.

“ _It does not excuse you from attacking the students and teachers on the grounds of this school. You come as emissaries and yet you attack_ ,” Ginny continued, “ _you do not come for peace or for the purpose of delivering a message. You come to kill._ ”

The lead Fayde made a noise of anger that sounded like a plunger being stuck in a toilet for a long time, only to be pulled up with great effort. It opened its maw, wider than what Harry thought was possible and screamed.

He could literally see the sound waves of the horrific scream ripple through the unnatural fog, yet the noise sounded muffled to him before he saw Ginny narrow her eyes and point an outstretched hand at the Fayde. “ _Reducto_ ,” she whispered.

The Fayde instantly exploded with the force of a grenade, showering them with bits of black rags and Harry thought he felt the squish of a body part on his leg, but he didn't dare look down because at that moment, at least several more black rags had come forward to take the place of their fallen leader. Each one of their white eyes were tinged with flecks of red and he had a feeling that they were very angry.

He wondered if it was such a great idea for Ginny to blow up their leader...

“Merlin,” Hermione's voice was just a whisper and he grabbed her hand in reassurance as the two of them stood over Ron's unmoving body, determined to protect it. He wanted to grasp Ginny's hand, but he didn't dare touch her, lest he end up like his best friend on the ground.

Ginny had finally drawn out her wand and held up aloft. However, it was Neville who spoke up, “ _Faydes can only be killed by pulverization._ ” He waved his wand towards another direction and Harry saw a path seemingly open up in the fog, “ _Merlin, you and Rowena need to take Godric to safety. We will clear a path for you and put an end to this madness._ ”

“But Nathan...” Harry did not want to abandon his friends.

“ _We have awakened. You and Rowena have not. You are in greater danger than we are. Grindelwald is after you. Selwyn was right, even though they were provoked, they were sent with a mission_ ,” he had never known Neville to have such a serious look in his eyes and dumbly nodded.

But his Gryffindor pride pulled at him not to leave his friends behind, especially Ginny, and he hesitated until Neville gave him a none too gentle shove towards Hermione who had already picked Ron up, her body bent under his weight a bit. “ _Trust us...we will deal with these creatures._ ”

He gave a hard stare at Neville for a few seconds before nodding resolutely. He had to trust his friends, like he did days ago when they had destroyed the last of the Horcruxes and had finished off Voldemort. Neville had long proven that he was trusted, especially since he had even killed Voldemort's snake Nagini. He would trust Neville to protect Ginny from harm.

Nodding once more for a silent good luck to Neville, he turned and helped Hermione carry Ron through the path in the fog. He turned once to see the fog envelop both Ginny and Neville the bright flashes of spells being slung towards the group of converging Faydes before facing forward again and they hurried along the tunnel. He couldn't see out of either side of the fog tunnel, but he thought he had heard the whispers of rags dragging across the ground coming from the edges of the tunnel. Other than that, it was completely inhumanly silent, save for the hard breathing of him and Hermione carrying Ron.

The silence grew as they trudged their way along the tunnel, hoping that it directed them back to the front entrance of Hogwarts. He did not know how far they had run when they were chasing Ginny. Just then a distant thump echoed along the tunnel and he and Hermione glanced at each other, each reading the slight fear in their eyes.

Another thump, this time closer echoed and both of them looked back towards the source of the sound. It sounded like someone or something was trying to get into the tunnel.

“ _Protego_ ,” Harry awkwardly conjured up a shield before Hermione murmured something, pointing to her own arms and the suddenly lifted Ron to her shoulders in a fireman's carry.

“What are you-”

Harry never got to finish his sentence as suddenly a crack, like glass breaking brought their gazes to a little beyond the bluish shield he had conjured up to see swarms of Faydes swarming into the tunnel, all headed towards them. They bounced off of the shield that he had conjured up and some hissed their anger at them before opening their mouths.

“Run!” Harry shouted, pushing Hermione along, noticing a light golden-hue on her arms and shoulders. He realized that she had cast a strengthening spell in order to carry Ron the way she did. However, her height made it so that Ron's head was nearly kicked by her ankles as she ran, him following behind her. He was glad that his best friend was not conscious otherwise, he would have suspected that he would be embarrassed by the situation.

“ _Protego, Protego!_ ” he shouted, ignoring the slight twinge of pain in his throat, casting two more shields like barriers behind them as the Faydes' scream shattered the first shield before advancing hungrily towards them. He held one hand to his ears in a futile attempt to stem the painful screaming the Faydes were unleashing upon them. Gone was the underwater sound of the scream and he realized that Ginny had probably used her Dreamer powers to protect them while she had faced down the Faydes.

With each successive implosion of his shields, he could literally feel a pressure on his ears, he thought he felt a trickle of something falling from it, but he held his wand aloft, running backwards, making sure Hermione had Ron secured as they dashed towards the end of the tunnel and what they hoped was safety. It was on a quick glance over his shoulder that he noticed blood streaming from Hermione's ears...and starting to trickle from her nose.

He realized that Faydes killed by sound waves. And their destructive screams would end up rupturing all of their blood vessels if they had a chance.

“ _REDUCTO!_ ” he shouted, his throat suddenly searing with pain, waving his wand as the last of his shields fell and his spell shot towards the converging group of rags.

Several of the Faydes exploded their deathly cries of pulverization dim to Harry’s ears. He blinked owlishly as stunned at the force of his spell when a movement in the corner of his eye made him turn slightly to see Remus brushing past him, wand drawn, eyes glowing a light blue with his Dreamer powers and the muffled cries of the Faydes returned once again.

“Merlin! Merlin!” his name sounded so far away, murky and Harry turned the other way to see Professor McGonagall, hand on his shoulder, trying to pull him backwards. He shook his head as he saw her lips moving, but could barely hear her words.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw several Aurors rushing forward to help Remus contain the Faydes, mufflers covering their ears. Only Remus’ ears were not covered, but Harry suspected that somehow he was protected by his own Dreamer powers.

McGonagall’s insistent tugging at his shoulder made him reluctant to turn away from the battle, but as raised his wand again to fire off another spell, he opened his mouth and suddenly coughed. Harry instinctively put his hand to his mouth and spat out something wet. Lifting his hand, to his horror, he saw globs of blood in his palms…his own blood he realized dimly.

It was also then that he finally noticed a coppery taste on his tongue and realized that not only did Faydes kill by sound; their screams pretty much damaged anyone’s vocal chords to the point where they could not speak any spells to defend themselves. He looked up at his former teacher, eyes wide as he felt fear run through him. Just how close was he, Hermione, and Ron to death? How close were they if they had not reached the front doors of Hogwarts?

“Ginny,” he mouthed silently as he stared outwards towards the battle, it hurt so much now to even move his mouth much less his throat or swallow for that matter.

He had shunted the pain from his damaged throat while he had been casting the shield spells, he realized; something he had been doing all year long. Shunting and ignoring the pain to his physical self as he was determined to finish whatever task was set to him.

“We should go,” he thought he saw McGonagall’s mouth move to the words, the sounds of battle all but very muffled in his ears. It was like having the _muffliato_ spell cast on his ears, except worst. He could literally hear the silence descending upon his ears and a fierce anger filled him. He did not want to be a liability to anyone in this world. He would not cower behind anyone else when he had agreed to help this world get back the hope it so desperately needed. How would the others think if he turned his back from Remus and the other Aurors to rush into the hospital wing to be treated? How would he feel if he did such a thing when he knew others were outside, fighting for him?

It had been different when he was searching for the Horcruxes. Now, he was searching for the hope that they needed and if he turned his back in cowardice and fled to the hospital wing, then he was no more a coward than the beaten look almost everyone wore these days. Plus he needed to see if Ginny and Neville were all right… They had been in the thick of the battle.

He shrugged off McGonagall’s grip on his shoulder and pointed his wand above Remus and the other Aurors’ heads. He could feel the Dreamer influence pulsating in his very core and mind, feel the added strength and the knowledge that he somehow, knew what he had to do. Anger filled him as he directed his hate towards the Faydes for attacking everyone that he cared about once more. Anger at Grindelwald and Voldemort for launching another attack so soon after yesterday’s Hellhounds fiasco. Anger at the fear that had filled him, the doubt that he had that he knew he couldn’t push away.

 _CORONUM!_ He thought and the spell leapt forth from his wand in a near blinding white light, but Harry wasn’t done yet and kept targeting the remaining Faydes. _SEMPRA MAXIMUS! REDUCTO! SECTUMSEMPRA!_

His three spells, chained together one after another as he wordlessly hurled them towards the Faydes and the resulting blinding flash even made him squint before a spectacular explosion engulfed the area where the ragged creatures used to be. When it finally died down, he noticed that the unnatural fog was dissipating and what were rags was now a smoking crater. It was also then that noticed almost every single eye save for Remus’ and Dumbledore’s, the headmaster having moved along with the converging of Aurors to help Remus earlier, were staring at him.

More than a few jaws were agape and Harry suddenly felt self conscious as he felt Merlin’s presence retreat slightly, his anger slowly seeping away, replaced by weariness. A sudden wracking cough, deep from within his chest and throat seared agonizingly up and he placed his hand on his mouth to cover the expulsion of blood that he could taste. He was dimly aware that he had hunched over, trying to desperately stop the coughs, but to no avail. Exhaustion from his travels and from the past few days finally caught up to him and Harry saw the stone steps beneath him blur with his vision.

The last thing he remembered seeing before merciful darkness engulfed him was Ginny and Neville, running up towards Remus and Dumbledore, looking a bit worst for wear, but otherwise seemingly unharmed. Then…everything was black.

* * *

Sirius rubbed his eyes in what he supposed was the fifth time that night. He was exhausted, even though it was only around eleven at night. He had his night patrol in a few minutes, but he wondered if he could convince perhaps one of Crouch’s Aurors, Emmeline or even her companion Alena to take the shift for him. All he wanted to do was to go back to his room in the staff wing and sleep.

But since Moody had okayed him to leave the hospital wing in the morning and resume his patrol duties, he knew he had no choice. He had not participated in the battle against the Faydes early in the afternoon, and instead was running back and forth from the front entrance to the hospital wing, shuttling wounded students, fellow Aurors, and a few professors including Hagrid who had been evacuated by the Aurors who were patrolling the grounds.

“Please don’t start yawning,” Peter’s simpering tone grated on Sirius’ nerves and he glared at his friend before deliberately yawning wide and a bit noisily just to irritate him.

However, his fake yawn suddenly turned into a real one and he automatically stretched his arms outwards after finishing the yawn, feeling a few tendons and bones crack along his spine and shoulders.

“Aw man…now I’m,” Peter covered his mouth, “yawning…thanks…”

“Always glad to be of service,” Sirius replied, giving him a sarcastic smile. He was in no mood to be conciliatory towards anyone tonight, not after what had happened and what they had all learned as soon as the battle was over.

Taking a quick look at James’ sleeping form, he was glad that his best friend was not able to participate in today’s battle. Otherwise, he probably would have gone spare or have blown up completely. He wondered if anyone else noted, but ever since Merlin and his Knights had arrived from their world and time, James had opened up a lot more than he had in the past few years. It wasn’t by much, but Sirius could see that Merlin especially had an impact on James’ demeanor.

A brief, but absurd thought suddenly took hold of Sirius as he stared at the other side of the room, Merlin occupying one of the hospital beds; Godric next to him along with Rowena. He knew of the terrible events that had befallen his best friend on that fateful Halloween night in 1981, and knew that besides slowly losing Lily to Severus, he had also lost his year-old son.

Merlin looked eerily at times like James, except he had the brightest, emerald-like green eyes, almost like Lily’s. Sirius barely remembered any baby pictures of little Harry, James and Lily evidently destroying them so not to remind themselves of what happened that tragic night, but could Merlin really be…him…from another world? Remus said that Merlin and his Knights were who they seemed to be…

“Nah…” Sirius whispered softly, shaking his head to get rid of the phantom thought. It would be too much of a coincidence and would be a very cruel trick to whomever decided to make baby Harry all grown up and then fling him into this world.

But still, as he stared at Merlin’s prone form, the teenager had a lot of spirit and he felt a kinship with him. In the past four days since they had arrived, he somehow wanted to protect Merlin, wanted to protect his friends. Teenagers like them should never have fought in a war. He wanted to go back to their time with them and make sure that they survived the horrors of the constant war from Queen Mab to eventually Nimue. He knew some of the history, courtesy of Marius Sadow, and wondered if he told Merlin of the treachery and betrayal he would face in the hands of the witch Nimue would he not suffer such a cruel fate?

The young man’s collapse after the battle and subsequent rush to the hospital wing had scared all of them. He thought he was scared seeing Rowena and Godric rushed in before, Rowena looking worst for wear with blood streaming out of her ears and out of one nostril; seeing the sight of Merlin brought in moments later, covered in blood across his face, Minerva yelling about his throat and chest hemorrhaging blood, it had terrified him.

Almost no one save for one person he knew, survived after their vocal chords had been damaged and they were coughing up blood after a Fayde attack. And even that person was already dead, having died from a different cause…

Sirius clenched his hands violently in an effort to suppress those set of memories from coming to the forefront of his mind. He did not need to think about _him_ …it hurt too much and he blamed himself for that person’s death…he did not need a reminder.

As he continued to stare at Merlin’s prone form, he could only hope that the young man was healthy enough to make a full recovery, but at least he was stabilized after five hours of intensive magical surgery by Madam Pomfrey and her nurses.

“Oh!” Peter’s soft exclamation and the obscuring of his vision with a set of dark blue robes made him look up to see his partner for tonight’s patrol standing in front of him, her lips pursed in a neutral expression.

“Figured you would be here,” Marion Sadow shook her head, her long black tresses falling across his shoulders before she absently brushed them away. “We’re already five minutes late in relieving Kester and Pointe.”

Sirius pasted a smile on his face, knowing that it looked half tired, “You think maybe Emmeline and Alena could-“

“Don’t even try it, Black,” Marion glared at him with her icy blue eyes. “They have the night off. We don’t. I don’t care if you’re tired; you’ll do the patrol even if I force Pomfrey to give you a Pepper-Up potion.”

Sirius grimaced at the suggestion and got up, stretching once more before waving her along. “No thanks…I’ll walk…” He hated the taste of the Pepper-Up potion, having taken it one too many times during his years at Hogwarts. Most of the time it was trying to keep up with Remus’ werewolf form during those years, especially during exam week.

They headed out of the hospital wing and towards the Great Hall to relieve Kester and Pointe. As soon as the handoff and goodnights were said, Marion directed them towards the dungeons to start their patrol around Hogwarts. On their way down, they passed by another patrol group and all four Aurors nodded to each other cordially before heading continuing on.

While the school was home to the teachers and students, some like him kept quarters in the staff room, but it was very limited. Most Aurors had homes in Hogsmeade or if they were really lucky, homes out in the different areas of the United Kingdom that weren’t under too much surveillance from the other Ministry. Sirius knew that Marion and her brother Marius owned such a home, a modest manor named Ravenloft somewhere near Cardiff.

However, he also knew that both Aurors took temporary homes in Hogsmeade, especially since Marion was the second-in-command of Crouch’s Aurors and the man relied heavily upon her. Sirius had his own opinions about Crouch relying on Marion and the fact that James was so adamant that she was neither a traitor nor a double agent within their group, but he mostly kept that to himself.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Marion spoke up and Sirius raised an eyebrow as they ascended the stairs to the third floor, having finished checking the first and second floors.

“Lots to think about,” he knew he would usually be cracking jokes to his patrol partner by now, Marion included, but tonight…tonight he had too much on his mind. He wondered if Remus had finished talking with Dumbledore.

They walked in silence, passing up into the fourth floor then into the fifth when suddenly Marion spoke up once more. “I’m sorry…”

“Huh?” Sirius was rarely caught off guard, but hearing her apologize was like hearing Crouch Jr. say that he wanted everything to be full of flowers and happiness. He nearly stumbled on a crack in between the floors and stared at the always-icy Auror. Marion’s reputation, even amongst Crouch’s Aurors was one not to be trifled with. She had a very deep and dark background with the Dark Arts and had achieved notoriety in the Wizarding world even before there were two Ministries. Her actions in the Veela Attacks of 1983 should have landed her a life sentence in Azkaban, especially for multiple uses of the Killing Curse, but instead, fate did not put here there.

“For Marius’…actions,” she said stiffly, not looking at him and kept her wand aloft, the tip of it shining their way through the darkened halls of the fifth floor.

“Oh…that,” Sirius instantly knew why she was apologizing. He still did not expect an apology from her, but he had to admit, it was comforting to hear that even she too was a bit disturbed by today’s events.

“I expect the Headmaster to be lecturing him right now,” she shrugged, “he deserves more than a lecture, provoking the Faydes…”

“I hope not,” Sirius vividly remembered what had happened during the time when Merlin was in surgery. Lady Selwyn was furiously angry and had stormed past the bedraggled fighters only to punch Marius straight in the jaw before yelling at him in front of everyone for provoking the Faydes into their deadly assault. How she had surmised such a thing was beyond him, but he figured that it was something to do with her Dreamer powers.

Faith had a nasty tendency to perceive the truth from those who told falsehoods and those who had deception. Such was the case when Lily was the Dreamer of Faith and with Lady Selwyn fully awakened to her powers; it was the same thing once more. Both Remus and Dumbledore had come in quickly after and both had neutral expressions on their faces. Sirius wondered what his good friend was thinking as they watched Lady Selwyn publicly take down Marius, but he did see the distinct twitch of his friend’s jaw muscle, a sign that even he was very angry at what had happened.

“Sirius, I know you’re fond of Merlin and his Knights, but even you should see-“

“No, I meant, that your brother shouldn’t get anymore punishment only because it would end up looking like a bandwagon affair. Lady Selwyn’s public mocking of him was enough to make him realize what he had done,” Sirius scratched his chin as they rounded up to the sixth floor. “By the way, did you find anything in Dunloff?”

She shook her head, “Nothing worth mentioning. All the villagers there claim that they did not see any hide or hair of a Hellhound. Owen Young tried to scry the area, but there weren’t any remaining magical traces.”

He had a feeling that Marion wasn’t telling him the whole story, but he also knew that pushing the issue would be moot. He would be able to get the full story from James once Marion made her report to him…after all, James trusted her and if she did not tell the truth, well then there was one mark against her as being loyal to the Order than to Crouch or anyone else. There was another reason why he suspected she may be holding information from him, but he did not want to really go into that theory. It would reopen the wound that was between them.

“Ah…seventh floor…” Sirius announced grandly before smirking at the withering look Marion gave him as she brushed past him.

“You’re just happy because now we can walk all the way down instead of continuing upwards to the Astronomy tower,” she grumbled to him and he decided to press his luck. The basic patrol took him up to the seventh floor. Aurors were stationed on the floors above, but since that area was smaller and narrower, they did not need to patrol it as much as the first seven floors of the school, eight if the dungeons were counted.

“You don’t want to see the lovers’ tower?” he asked in a light voice, “perhaps-“

Sirius nearly walked into Marion’s wand, such that it was pointed at his chest, the light from its end illuminating the stone cold look she wore. A part of him realized the shadows that had stretched across his face from the little light had made her look eerily a little like a Veela, even though he knew that she had not even a single drop of their blood in her veins.

“Say one more word and I will cast the Cruciatus Curse on you, consequences in be damned,” she hissed quietly and he held up his hands in a placating gesture.

She must have been more wound up and tired than he was. He remembered of the rare times that they had patrol together; she would either ignore or wave away his comments about the Astronomy tower. This one…this was new…

“All right,” he backed up slightly, “I know we’re all tense here, on edge, but…sorry, all right?”

She stared at him for a few more seconds before withdrawing her wand and started down the hall once more. Sirius scrambled to catch up to her, a frown on his face. Her reaction in just a few short steps from her sarcastic tone to sudden chill puzzled him. Did Crouch do something tonight to warrant such an extreme mood swing from her? He wished he had the power to help her with her problem, but she had said time and time again and even occasionally hexed him to stop him from interfering in her affairs. More than one occasion it was James who had interfered, saying that he would handle it and talk to her and the next time Sirius had seen Marion after those times, she was back to her normal cool, icy self.

Sirius knew that a majority of the incidents between him and Marion stemmed from his discovery of her secret regarding the Veela Attacks of 1983, but each time he had tried to talk to her about it, he had been violently rebuffed. He did not know why she ran to Crouch at those times, but he couldn’t help but feel that he had some sway over her, something that he only barely knew about.

He knew that it was slight jealousy that gnawed at him, but it was also worry for her. After all, they were classmates back in their school years and she was the bookworm, geeky Ravenclaw girl who always had a witty comeback to every line and a cheerful smile. She was like the little sister of Lily’s group of friends, even though she was at least a year and half, almost two years older than Lily. It was generally accepted when Lily started dating James back then that both groups of friends became like family…

Oh how times had changed.

They passed the portrait of Barnabas the Barmy trying to teach trolls ballet, very unsuccessfully as usual, and out of habit for the last four days since Merlin and his Knights arrived; he glanced at the blank wall opposite the portrait. He wondered if Lady Selwyn and Nathan were asleep or were they up, worrying over the health of their friends.

Madam Pomfrey had allowed no visitors to Rowena, Godric, and Merlin’s sides, saying that this night was very critical to all of their health, more so to Merlin than the others, but nonetheless had forbidden Lady Selwyn or Nathan to stay. Sirius had seen the hurt looks each gave, but the head of the hospital wing had brooked no sympathy from their gazes.

They finished their patrol of the seventh floor, Sirius silently wishing that he had the Marauder’s Map with him to make sure no scheming Gryffindor was planning to get out like the Weasley twins had a nasty habit of doing during their years at Hogwarts, but that parchment belonged solely to Dumbledore now. The rest of their patrol was silent as they walked the floors once more, heading back down to the Entrance Hall where they would once again, go down into the dungeons and sweep the area before climbing back up to the seventh floor once more. It would usually take around three times up and down Hogwarts before the next patrol would relieve them, finally allowing Sirius some sleep for the night.

However, when they arrived at the second floor to the Headmaster’s office, they noticed that someone was limping, braced by another person and both hurried forward. Sirius skidded to a halt as he saw that it was Marius, supporting none other than Barty Crouch Jr. who looked worst for wear. There were no visible bruises on the man’s face, but his lips were pinched together with pain and his skin was pale with sweat dripping down his sides.

“Sir!” Marion rushed forward, shooing her brother away as she took over supporting her boss.

Sirius felt a twinge of jealously run through him just as quick as it disappeared he glanced at Marius. He suppressed the instinctive anger that filled him, reminding him of the blunder the untrained Auror had made. Marius Sadow was never an Auror like his older sister, and instead had opted to help their older brother run an apothecary in Diagon Alley. The apothecary had done well until ten years ago when the two Ministries were formed, the puppet and the real one. Marion and Marius’ older brother, Melchior had died ten years ago when they had retreated from a majority of the United Kingdom and had established their exiled Ministry at Hogwarts. There was no name for the battle, only that it was called the Black Day. It was also the day that-

Sirius once again violently suppressed the memory with a clench of his hands and forced himself to focus on Marius. “What happened?” he asked, gesturing with his chin towards Marion who was slowly helping Crouch, whispering to him in low tones.

“”It’s…nothing,” Marius looked away in shame and Sirius wondered if what he had suspected had happened. He had heard rumors, though he had no first hand accounts, of the occasional time when Dumbledore used physical punishment to make sure the person in question knew of his disappointment. He thought such a method was crude and unnecessary, especially since the Headmaster was exceedingly polite and couldn’t possibly commit such an act.

Maybe it was Marius who was forced to punish his own boss for his ineptitude? That would explain why he was very reluctant to talk about it. It would be embarrassing.

“Sir, we should get you to the hospital wing-“

“Just take me to my quarters, Sadow…” Crouch’s gruff tone cut off Marion and he looked over to see her reluctantly nod before helping him down the stairs.

“Marius!” she looked up at her brother and Sirius narrowed his eyes slightly, making sure that she got the message in full. He was not happy to see her with Crouch. She ignored his look and instead continued to talk with her brother, “Finish my patrol with Black. Let Moody know of the change.”

Marius only mutely nodded before tugging on his sleeve to direct him down the other end of the second floor where another set of stairs would be able to take them to the back of the Great Hall and to the Entrance Hall from there. Sirius watched as Marion led Crouch to the staff room and only when she had disappeared from his view he turn and stalked off, Marius hurrying to follow him.

He resolutely ignored the twinge of jealously within him.


	11. The Dreamer Merlin

“ _You’ve that frown again,” her gentle voice was always soothing to his ears before she placed a light hand on his shoulder, bringing his gaze up to meet hers._

_His mouth automatically curled up into a smile, and he realized that he was frowning. He had been frowning since he stared at the latest parchment of reports from the front lines. Queen Mab must have been rebuilding her army even before she had disappeared, he decided. Just when they had thought to retake a part of the lands, she had taken over another one of their strongholds. How she had controlled so many Yrcs and other dark creatures was beyond him._

_Her beautiful brandy brown eyes sparkled with mirth before she plucked the parchment from his hands and scanned it. “Why do you do this to yourself?”_

“ _Because if I don’t I don’t feel human…I feel distanced from everything,” he replied heavily as she placed the parchment down and shook her head sadly at him._

“ _Why? Do you not trust your brother?”_

“ _Sal?”_

“ _I was meaning to say Godric,” she gave him a pointed look and he rubbed his knuckles in a repetitive gesture. “But since you brought-“_

“ _Enough,” he was getting annoyed, “can we not talk about this, Nimue?”_

“ _Of…of course, I’m sorry,” she leaned her body down on top of his back, her arms encircling him and he was deftly aware of each movement of her body pressed against his. He closed his eyes and rubbed them in an effort not to succumb to her charm this time around. He knew he was trapped…he knew that if he had the power just to get up…to leave-_

“That’s enough,” the harsh voice immediately clouded the dream Harry was having and he suddenly found himself out of the walls of the keep that Merlin was trapped in by the witch Nimue and in a white fog-like area.

His first thought was that there was another Fayde attack before he realized he vaguely recognized the whiteness of the fog-like surroundings. He had been here before… As he turned around in a circle, he suddenly came face to face with a young man, probably in his early twenties, if he could guess.

The young man was wearing simple garments, ones that looked a lot like something a peasant from medieval times would wear. His feather and fur-lined pullover was something of a mottled color, but it looked comfortable. He had a strong jaw, a bit square, but otherwise unremarkable. His hair was a dark shade, and his eyes, glittered like twin orbs of sapphire.

“M-Merlin?” Harry ventured a guess and the young man nodded.

“Was that-“

“Of no consequence,” Merlin frowned a bit and Harry knew he wouldn’t ask about it again.

“Are you real?” he had to ask. It was eerily like his encounter with Dumbledore after Voldemort had killed him with the Killing Curse, except no King’s Cross station nor was he stark naked. There was just whiteness around them, surrounding them, giving them neither warmth nor cold. Harry realized he was in Muggle clothing…the ones he had worn when he had his final confrontation with Voldemort.

When Merlin smiled, it was eerily like looking into a mirror and seeing his own reflection. However, there were differences as he continued to stare at the young man. Definite differences besides their appearances. “Now that’s a relative question, isn’t it Harry?”

“Then…” Harry pursed his lips in thought, “is this where I’m supposed to communicate with you like a Dreamer?”

Merlin stared at him for a split second before bursting out in laughter. Harry goggled at the sight before the young wizard got his chuckles under control and shook his head, “No…I am sorry to say, this is not the part where you understand what it is to be a Dreamer nor is it where you understand your own strength and power. In time…hopefully in time, we will be able to communicate like that, but now…”

Harry kept silent, having learned from so many meeting with Dumbledore in his world that usually one would get to their eventual thought soon enough.

“I am here to keep you alive, Harry.”

That shocked him and he stared.

Merlin sighed, all traces of mirth gone from his face as he sat down on a rock that appeared out of nowhere. He gestured for Harry to also sit down on a rock opposite him and Harry took the offered seat. “By all accounts, you should be dead, young man.”

“I know myself in this world is dead, what do you-“

“I don’t mean him,” Merlin shook his head, “I meant from the Faydes. Even with the aid of my powers, you should not have survived. Yet, there is something about you, something that clings onto life where it should have ended. You stubbornly refuse to let the threads of Fates bind you and kill you.

“You have to understand, Harry. I am not Merlin. I only take his form, this younger form, because it is something you may be familiar with,” Merlin shook his head, “and it is not because of the Dreamer power within you that saved you, it was because of your tenacity and will to live. You cling onto everything so dear to you, I included, and that enables me to ensure your survival from the Faydes.”

“So…I’m supposed to be dead?” Harry did not know what to feel, except confusion.

Merlin nodded, “Yes. No one has survived such an amount of damage from a Fayde. It is from experience, the experience of countless of Dreamers within me that know such knowledge.”

“Then, how come we never have Faydes in my world? Why in this one?”

“I presume it would be similar to why you do not have Dreamers in your world. Yet your book only tells you of the legends. Perhaps it was the creator of the world or events that made it so Dreamers, Faydes, and perhaps a host of other things that exist in this world have either died out or were non-existent in your world,” the sapphire-eyed man shook his head, “but you have to understand, I…we, as Dreamers, do not seek to harm you or your friends who have come to our world. We only seek to aid…”

The unspoken question lingered in the air before the young wizard gave a small chuckle and shifted on his rock to a more comfortable position, “Perhaps now may be the best time to understand what we are instead of later. To answer your question, Harry, I am…a magical entity.”

“A magical entity, like pixies?” was the only thing Harry could think of.

“Err…no,” Merlin looked a bit put out by his question, “we do not have a form per se, not like you and your friends do. We manifest within those who have been chosen by the Weavers Council or even those who have been selected as heirs to the powers. We are a unique branch of magic that is far older than you can ever imagine.”

“Like my mother’s love-“

“That helped destroy Voldemort in your world, yes. Similar to that, but we provide the memories of our previous incarnations and provide those memories and experiences to the next generation of Dreamers,” Merlin nodded, “we are not corporeal or even have our own personalities, but we take the traits of those we are bonded to at the moment to help them understand their power and purpose.”

“What is mine in this world?”

“I’ll get to that soon, but right now I want you to focus,” the young wizard shifted in his seat again, “Essentially I am you, but not you.”

Harry furrowed his brow in an attempt to process what Merlin was saying, “So you’re saying that you’re part of me, or at least you are there to help me. Why couldn’t you appear in a different form? It feels like you were trying to take over me sometimes whenever we were talking? Those times I feel like I’m watching myself move and answer and can’t even regain control…”

“Ah…yes. I’m like this,” he indicated himself, “because some part of your mind wished to become like Merlin when the Headmaster had suggested that you and your friends take up Merlin and his Knights’ personas. It wasn’t the strongest of suggestions as I admit, you really had wanted to manifest Sirius Black, but the first time you felt my presence, a part of you accepted it and in turn, it fed on the urge to protect who you were in this world and to never reveal your identity in times of crisis.

“I suppose it is also why you were able to communicate with your friends easily with your persona dropped and while you were in the presence of others who did not know your true identity, you used the Merlin persona. All subconsciously of course…”

“Really,” to Harry, the young wizard in front of him seemed as real as a separate person from him.

“I do have to confess though,” Merlin leaned closer to him and stage-whispered, “one my previous incarnations was Merlin.” He leaned back again and grinned, “It does lend credence to why you’re having such vivid dreams and waking dreams too. I felt it was necessary in order for you to play the part to protect your identity.”

“It’s uncomfortable, especially if they’re waking dreams. I don’t want to lose focus, especially when I’m talking to someone. If you know me so well, you should know what happened when Voldemort tried to possess me,” Harry frowned, his voice a bit heated with anger.

Merlin looked around in the white fog-like area and narrowed his eyes. Harry saw flashes of images of his battle in the Department of Mysteries and Voldemort’s attempt to possess him flit through the fog in an almost bizarrely third-person like image before the whiteness resumed. “I apologize…I had grasped the surface of your thoughts, which were immediately focused on the defeat of Voldemort and did not realize the extent of my influencing you would be construed like this. I suspected something when Ginny was talking about the diary and her talk with Selwyn, but nothing like this…”

Harry made a noise of agreement. He did not want to forgive the Dreamer entity entirely. A short silence resumed before Merlin looked at him again, sapphire eyes solemn and serious.

“I know what you are thinking; after all, we are in your own mind. You can banish me, get rid of me, hide me in a corner and leave me there if you wish. You will not be the first one to do so…my previous…host, is definitely not a good word mind you, did that to the point where the Weavers decided to forcibly extract me out of him and hold me for the next generation they deemed worthy.”

“That’s twice you’ve said Weavers. Who are they?” Harry made a mental note to figure out something different for Merlin or at least the Dreamer who called his current form Merlin, to say instead of ‘host.’ He had to admit, ‘host’ made the Dreamer sound parasitic.

“I…” Merlin fell silent before looking up at him again, “can’t tell you. You and your friends will meet them, hopefully soon, but I can’t say anything else about them.”

“They’re real?”

“Yes,” Merlin nodded, “they do exist and they are flesh and bones. The only thing I can say is that they have the abilities like gods. They have the ability to choose who becomes a Dreamer and who doesn’t.”

“Then…how come they let this war with Grindelwald and Voldemort in this world fester to such a point?”

“Because they can,” for the first time Harry saw a helpless look on Merlin’s face, “You remember the story about the Dreamers? Seven of them opposed to six of them. The Weavers are inherently neutral…”

“And they decide who can become Dreamers and can take away the powers of a Dreamer, essentially stripping them bare in the midst of a war,” Harry narrowed his eyes, anger building in him. He barely noticed the white fog changing to a light grey around him as his anger mounted.

“Yes.”

“So pretty much they can decide that okay, we’ll have Seven Sins incarnated at once and leave the Six Virtues out hanging right?!”

“That is not-“

“But you just said-“

“It is not-“ Merlin suddenly made a noise of frustration at the back of his throat and the fog turned a brief dark grey before lightening to light grey once more, “I can not tell you any more, all right? Please…do not ask me of this!”

Harry could see the frustration and the willingness of those sapphire eyes, pleading him not to question anymore. He could see that Merlin wanted to tell him everything, but somehow was forbidden to. He sighed, finally noticing the fog returning to its whitish stage. “Sorry,” he knew he sounded gruff.

“It is not your fault. Every one of my…hosts…has asked me these questions. You, however, are the most curious of all of them. You have not once seized my knowledge and experience and use it to your advantage. I would say it is because you have not accessed your full abilities or ‘awakened’ as Ginny and Selwyn have told you, but instead, you seek to push it away and use your own abilities…”

“So how do I awaken? I mean, I don’t even know what Dreamer of the Six Virtues I’m supposed to be…I know Ginny is the Dreamer of Faith because my mum was her previous…err…host, but…” Harry trailed off, absently scratching the back of his head.

Merlin smiled slightly, “That is something each Dreamer has to undergo. It is a trial in which you will either be judged worthy of your powers or it will be stripped from you. I can tell you which Dreamer I am, but that won’t help you get any closer to ‘awakening.’”

“But I thought-“

Eerily calm sapphire eyes met emerald ones. “It is because as the Dreamer of Hopes, you are the leader of the Virtues. You are the littlest Dreamer in _The Tale of Beetle the Bard_ , and your trial to awaken your true powers, is also one of the vaguest and hardest to accomplish.”

* * *

The sun shone brightly down upon Hogwarts and its surrounding countryside, the perfect day for students to enjoy one last Hogsmeade day before exams started. However, Remus did not find himself walking outside and enjoying the fresh air as he was prone to do on such beautiful days. Instead, he found himself sitting in the brightly lit hospital wing, perched on a chair, a Muggle fantasy novel called _Royal Assassin_ in hand as he absently read while glancing over at the three remaining patients in the wing.

It had been two days since the Faydes attacked, three days since the Hellhounds, and throughout all of this Remus knew it wasn’t a coincidence on Grindelwald’s part. No, the Dark Lord knew of their guests and knew who to send to attack them. Dumbledore had arranged for ever more vigilant patrols throughout Hogsmeade and Hogwarts and had even begun plans to infiltrate more of the other Ministry through use of Crouch’s Aurors since they were heavily associated with the Dark Arts.

However it all had to be carefully planned and spaced out through a number of days or else those in the other Ministry would get suspicious and could potentially compromise their already inserted spies. The way Dumbledore had arranged for such things was very similar to the novel he read and he had briefly wondered if the Headmaster had ever considered using Muggle novels and literature as a basis for his plans. It would make a lot of sense, especially since those who were under Grindelwald and the Black King were fanatical pure-blooded purists and would consider Muggle literature and plans to be beneath them.

All of the students, Hagrid, and a few Aurors who had been injured by the Faydes had recovered in a day, but there was still three who had not moved a single bit during their stay in the hospital wing. For Merlin, Remus knew that the young man’s condition was very grave and warranted a lot longer stay, and he had heard one of the nurses in the ward whisper to another that they had nearly lost him a few times during the five-hour surgery Madam Pomfrey had performed on him.

Rowena looked like she was recovering nicely; color inching its way back into her cheeks and Remus knew that the young witch would wake up probably later in the day. He had to admit; he enjoyed Rowena’s presence in his classes and found that her intelligence rivaled that of Lily’s, except she had the young hunger for more knowledge. By the end of classes before lunch break that fateful day he had considered asking her to perhaps take over and teach along with Sirius during his full moon cycle, but he had also wondered how she felt about werewolves.

He had seen far too many prejudices formed by people he had thought were friends or whom he had thought were open minded enough, only to see it shattered when he told them that he was a werewolf. However, he held a slight sliver of promise, especially when Lily told him about Merlin’s misadventures in the Potions dungeons and how he believed that werewolves should not be persecuted as dark creatures. Perhaps if Merlin thought that way about werewolves, maybe his friends felt the same way too?

Remus flipped another page in the book and read a few lines before glancing up again, this time staring at Godric, a half-frown on his face. Godric was an interesting case…the young man was obviously not injured by the Faydes due to his unconscious state, but the only explanation Lady Selwyn or Nathan had given was that he was either undergoing his awakening as the Dreamer of Courage or having a nice long nap. That latter statement came from the High Elf to whom Remus almost thought it was serious until he caught the undercurrent of sarcasm in her voice.

He had never known the High Elf to have such a sisterly sarcastic personality towards Godric and it had made him laugh for a long time.

And speaking of the two, he knew that both of them would much rather sit by their friends on such a sunny day, but Headmaster Dumbledore had requested that they accompany the students to Hogsmeade just in case Grindelwald decided to attack again and they had reluctantly agreed.

It was also one of the reasons why Remus offered to stay indoors for the day, as a Dreamer himself, he would be able to send word through the bond that formed with all of the Virtues after they had awakened, if any of the three showed any signs of waking up. He first felt the tenuous bond of Lady Selwyn when she had abruptly awakened and stormed out to stop the Faydes and had briefly felt a thrill of shock before his body and mind remembered what it was like to feel the bond between the Dreamer of Faith and Dreamer of Temperance.

It had been too long since he had felt the Dreamer bonds…and it was also one of the reasons why he had rushed out so late with Dumbledore. He did not know what it felt like after such a long time of dormancy. The second time he had felt the bond was when Nathan had abruptly threw off the cast he had been wearing and opened himself up to his powers. The surge of power through their bond, a subtle mental link of sorts, had nearly floored him to the ground.

He had never known the previous Dreamer of Justice to wield such power; Nathan wielded it like a finely honed sword. He knew his own powers as Temperance manifested themselves like an arrow that always found its mark, at least according to what James had told him when he had been Courage. Lady Selwyn’s powers as Faith was exactly like Lily’s, a shield. It was also one of the reasons why Faith was best suited for defending against Faydes or other dark creatures that sapped emotions, dementors included.

Their bonds as Dreamers was just a subtle mental link, unable to share thoughts with each other, but something innately within them carried their emotions towards another whenever they wanted to. However, Remus wondered if the two would perhaps need at least some kind of training exercise in order to stop the current flow of emotions he could subtly feel at times from them. Both Lady Selwyn and Nathan were definitely worried about their friends and while Remus did not mind the waves of emotions, he was adept at blocking it for so many years; it wouldn’t be very good for the three others if they awakened to their powers.

The soft noise of the hospital wing door opening and closing made Remus glance up from the page he was reading to see three pairs of curious eyes staring at the three forms on the bed. Remus felt the tug of a smile on the corner of his lips and quickly killed it. “Shouldn’t the three of you be in Hogsmeade instead of wandering the grounds?” he asked quietly, bringing all three pairs of eyes on him. “What can I do for you, Mr. Potter, Miss Potter, and Mr. Creevey?”

“Erm…” Iris Potter looked guiltily down on the ground before shooting a glare to her older brother, “you explain, Eddie!” She unceremoniously shoved Edward forward a few steps.

Edward Potter, or Eddie as he was called by others, shot a glare back at his younger sister before drawing himself up in a haughty posture. Remus noted that the young man had not changed since he had arrived at Hogwarts. He personally felt a bit sorry for the young teen, especially in light of James and Lily’s separation, but he also knew that many of the professors did not share his sentiment about Eddie and instead thought him a spoiled, albeit talented, brat.

“Mum and Dad said that I should apologize to Lady Selwyn and to Merlin…” Eddie looked completely put out at the prospect.

“And?” Remus prompted gently.

“Found her at Hogsmeade…apologized,” the teenager said sulkily, “now doing the same here.”

“Perhaps you should wait until Merlin is awake?” Remus made sure his own voice was mild, but definitely made sure that Eddie heard the rebuking tone in it. When Eddie was born, he had become Godfather to the young man and more than once had ended up disciplining the young man whenever James or Lily wouldn’t share responsibility.

Eddie muttered something that even his enhanced senses from being a werewolf couldn’t quite catch and tilted his head. “Pardon?”

“I said…” Eddie huffed, “people have been saying that Merlin’s not going to wake up again. They said that he died a few times on the operating table…so how come I can’t apologize now when he’s not going to wake up?”

“You do not know that,” Remus set his book down and frowned at Eddie, “whatever you may have heard, they are baseless rumors. Merlin is currently recovering and he will be awake soon.”

Eddie looked away and Remus shook his head before gesturing for the three of them to come closer. Both Iris and Colin came forward, dragging Eddie along. “Eddie, who’s been spreading such rumors? Is it Draco?”

“No! Uncle Remus!” Iris looked highly affronted that he had even suggested that her boyfriend would do such a thing.

“No? Iris, you do know who is his father?” he and James had their strong reservations regarding Iris dating Draco Malfoy, especially considering that his father was the Minister of the other Ministry and rumored to be the Black Bishop, the chief distributor of information for Grindelwald. However, Lily and even Marion had thought that having Draco dating Iris, was a risk itself, but it had also softened the once hardened edges of the young man. Dumbledore had cautioned it too, but had also discussed the merits of having him as a potential recruit into the Order or even as a spy for his own father.

“I do, but I don’t care. Draco knows better than to spread rumors about someone as famous as Merlin,” Iris looked stonily at him before he nodded.

“All right,” he held his hands up in a placating gesture. “Then who would be spreading such rumors?”

“Susan Bones,” Eddie muttered, “she said she had asked her mum about Fayde attacks and her mum had said that no one survived a Fayde attack and those who did with the amount of injury usually either died after a while or never woke up.”

Remus quickly hid the surprise from his face as he schooled himself to maintain a neutral expression. Amelia Bones was one of their spies within the other Ministry. If she had been telling Susan this…could she have been the one to inform Grindelwald or even Voldemort the Black King of the arrival of Merlin and his Knights? Did she know that Merlin and his Knights weren’t who they seemed?

It was impossible, it had to be. None of their spies knew anything about their mysterious visitors until they had been introduced in the Great Hall. Plus, Amelia was one of their best spies and she was no traitor, he was sure of it. Dumbledore would have told him of anything that happened…the Headmaster relied upon his powers and on him more than ever since he was the only Dreamer left in his generation.

“I’m sure as a Hufflepuff, especially a seventh year at that, would not betray her loyalties to Hogwarts or to the Ministry,” he decided that Eddie was probably telling him a half truth, “her mother wanted to test her loyalty to us.”

“But what about family loyalty? Doesn’t that count?” Eddie countered and Remus suppressed a grin. There were times when Eddie’s brilliant mind worked out counter solutions to each and every one of his questions.

“I’m sure it does, especially to a Hufflepuff, but I believe Headmaster Dumbledore is not trying to break the Bones family apart, but rather hope to see that Amelia could see the error of her ways and join the true Ministry,” he made sure his voice was smooth so none of the three children could figure out his lie within the statement.

“Oh…well…can I still apologize?” Eddie could not think of anything to say and instead repeated his question.

Remus sighed, this time letting his frustration bleed into his expression. “Eddie…”

“Fine, I get it,” the young man sounded resigned and annoyed at the same time, “I'll wait until he gets up. Geez...”

Remus was secretly glad that Dumbledore was not there to hear his words. He knew how much hope and trust the Headmaster had placed on the five who had arrived from another world. He had seen the glint of worshipful fanaticism and knew that Dumbledore would not hear anything against them that may be perceived as a slight. But he also knew that such fanaticism was dangerous. He had counseled and cautioned Dumbledore, but there was only so much he could do. After all, the Headmaster was the former Dreamer of Hopes and therefore their leader.

But he also knew that Eddie should have known better than to sound like a sulky little child. He was already fifteen; two years shy of the age of recognition and should already be acting more like an adult and less like a child. “Eddie-”

“Sorry, Uncle Remus. I know I could blame my O.W.L.s next week, but I just don't understand why everyone's so up in arms about the hubbub? Yeah, it's Merlin and his Knights, but these guys haven't even lived their full history yet! How do my parents, even the Minister think that they'll help us win this god awful war?” Eddie frowned, “I just don't like them. There's something about them that makes me uneasy. I think they're full of it...Iris agrees with me too, so does Colin.” He looked at his friends and Remus saw hesitant nods from the two.

He smiled kindly at them, “I understand your concerns, but you should keep your thoughts to yourself for now. I'm sure you've noticed, but some of your classmates and even some of the Aurors around here are filled with a renewed hope. Do you really want to take it away from them?”

“No...” Iris answered for her brother, “Dad's...happier....”

If Eddie was a boisterous one, Iris was a quiet little girl who never ceased to amaze Remus with her intelligence. “Yes, your father is happier...” He knew that of the two remaining Potter children, Iris was the most affected by her parents' separation and sometimes blamed herself for it. He, Sirius, Peter, Marion, even some of the other teachers had tried to tell her that it wasn't her fault, but Remus knew through his powers that she rarely believed them.

Remus caught a change in scent before Iris suddenly beamed at him for no apparent reason before hurrying over to Rowena's bedside and noisily pulled up another chair to sit next to the young woman. He glanced over and saw that the young witch was slowly blinking her eyes open and looked around before focusing her eyes on Iris' happy face.

“You're awake!” Iris said excitedly in a hushed whisper before Remus got up, brushing past Colin and Eddie who hung back near his vacated chair and approached Rowena.

“Lady Ravenclaw,” he greeted, bringing her slightly bewildered gaze onto him.

“How...” she cleared her throat, “How long?”

Iris apparently snatched a small cup of water that had been sitting at her bed stand and offered it to her to which she drank a few sips before leaning back on her pillows. Her bushy brown hair looked a bit lighter than usual a few minutes ago but was darkening again. Remus had his own suspicions on the ever changing hair color and seemingly slight differences in appearances of Merlin and his Knights, but had decided not to question it at the time.

“Two days,” he replied and saw her eyes widen in dismay before she glanced over beyond Iris to see both Godric and Merlin still in their beds.

“Godric...Merlin?” she looked extremely worried, “what about Selwyn and Nathan?”

“Lady Selwyn and Nathan are fine,” Remus mentally skirted the edges of the Dreamer bond and touched both Selwyn, who seemed like she was preoccupied with something and to Nathan who apparently was amused with something else. “I've just notified them of your awakening. They should be returning from Hogsmeade shortly.”

“Oh...” Rowena looked a bit bewildered and Remus surmised that the young woman had not been in too many hospital wings in her life. She may have been more used to a battlefield triage or something of that nature.

“You're in the hospital wing of Hogwarts, Rowena,” he said and she absently nodded before shaking her head at Iris' offer for another sip from her cup. “Lord Godric and Merlin have not awakened yet. Lord Godric's condition, I believe is similar to Lady Selwyn's as he was not injured by the Faydes.”

“That's good,” she sounded hopeful and relieved and Remus briefly wondered if something was going on between her and Godric. He did not remember much of the history he had read and heard from Marius, but he supposed there could have been something budding between the two.

“I'll get Madam Pomfrey and the three of you should return either to your dorms or back to Hogsmeade. I doubt that your chaperons or the Aurors sent to keep an eye on you would be happy to find you wandering around,” Remus gave a pointed look at the three children who mutely nodded before they got up and headed out of the hospital wing.

Remus noted that Iris was very reluctant to leave Rowena's side and it was only because the young witch had murmured a few words of reassurance to her that she left. They had exchanged a few more words and he had no doubt that Iris was going to bring her student mentor, Hermione Granger over to visit Rowena after her Hogsmeade visit. It seemed that James and Lily's youngest was quite fascinated with the bookish Lady Ravenclaw.

He waited a few minutes after they left to make sure that they did not attempt to come back in before going over to Madam Pomfrey's office and knocked on her door to summon her. Glancing back once more, he reflected that it felt more like the calm before the storm, but did not know what kind of storm they were headed in.


	12. Inviting the Founders

The world, to Harry, tasted distinctively like cotton and bitter copper. The world also was hammering inside his head and making his eyes hurt like sandpaper as he slowly blinked them open. The world, his sleep addled brain decided, was very blurry and looked vaguely like the walls of the hospital wing. Turning his head slightly he noticed the blurry form of someone sitting near his bedside, seemingly staring out at nothing.

Blinking again, he squinted and could make out that the form was none other than his father, a wistful, yet blank expression on his face. He slowly turned his head to the other side and saw that the rest of the beds lining the walls of the hospital wing were empty, he was the only occupant.

He shifted his body and winced as he felt a pinch of a small tube against the inside of his wrist and looked over to see a Muggle intravenous drip had been set up, feeding him nutrients into his body and briefly wondered how long had he been unconscious. He remembered collapsing against McGonagall after he was sure the Faydes were destroyed. He vaguely remembered his conversation with Merlin apparently inside his head...or at least he thought it was in his mind. That white fog-like condition seemed so eerily like his conversation with Dumbledore to the point where he had wondered if he had died and gone to either Heaven or Purgatory.

He tried to lift his arm with the IV drip in it and found that his muscles were very weak. However, his attempt at movement had alerted his father and Harry immediately saw him get up from his chair and approach him, concern on his lined face.

“Hey, don't move...” James placed a hand on his hand to stop his movement before glancing over to Madam Pomfrey's office, “I'll get Poppy...you okay?”

“W-Water...” Harry tried to croak out before he found that his throat was extremely hoarse and raw.

“Don't try to speak,” James patted his shoulder and while he did not sound unkind, Harry had a feeling that his father was not used to taking care of anyone. He suddenly picked up a cup of water next to his bed stand and offered the straw to him. Harry took a tentative sip and grimaced as the cool liquid touched his throat as he swallowed. It stung all the way down.

James shook his head at his expression, some pity in his eyes before setting the cup of water back down and hurried to Madam Pomfrey's office. As he was doing that Harry bit the bottom of his lip and planted his hands on the sides of his bed and forced himself to prop himself up. He managed to pull himself into a semblance of a sitting position when the head nurse of the hospital wing bustled out and hurried over to him, clucking her tongue in annoyance.

“Merlin, you shouldn't be moving so much!” she admonished him, but Harry was glad that she did not force him to lie back down. He could already feel pain along his back and legs from lying down for a while and surmised that he had probably been out for more than three days. He reached over and fumbled with his glasses before managing to put them on, his world coming into focus.

“How...” he attempted to speak and cleared his throat, wincing at the surge of pain, “how long?”

“Shhh, shhh, don't talk,” Pomfrey bustled all over him, her wand pointed at various parts of his body and he thought that she was probably doing a quick examination of his injuries. “You poor dear...”

He suspected that she wouldn't answer his question and looked over to his father who stood back from them, an unreadable expression on his face.

“A little over a week,” his father replied before looking towards the door, seemingly ready to bolt out of there. Harry did not quite understand why, but decided to leave it. “I'll let the Minister know you're awake and your friends too.” With that, he abruptly left, leaving Harry to the ministrations of Madam Pomfrey who was now using a few Muggle tools to check his temperature and heart rate.

Harry had never suspected that this world's Pomfrey was so well versed in Muggle medical instruments until she caught him staring at electric thermometer that was steadily beeping his temperature. “It's a Muggle contraption, dearie. Since the destruction of St. Mungos a few years ago, all of the surviving doctors and nurses have gone underground and the Minister suggested I perhaps get some training in the Muggle world to supplement what we don't have here at Hogwarts.”

“Oh,” Harry wanted to say that he knew what she was using, but to do that would betray who he really was and he could feel a tendril of the Dreamer's caution whisper in his mind. It wasn't as overpowering as before and he realized that he did have the proper conversation that Ginny said she and her Dreamer impersonating Selwyn had just days after their arrival here.

“You definitely still have some raw flaying in your throat as it heals, but you should be able to slowly incorporate food into your diet in the next few days. However, your muscles have deteriorated slightly so you'll be feeling weak for a little bit. Your ears have fully healed, so I am very glad of that,” she finished her examination and looked at him with kind eyes. “We've been so worried about you,” she placed a cool hand on his forehead, “you nearly gave us a scare of death....”

“What...”

“Don't try to talk, Merlin, we had to perform surgery on your throat and lungs to stop the hemorrhaging from the damage you took from the Faydes. You can whisper for the next few days, but don't attempt a full conversation until your third day,” she looked at him and he tentatively lifted his blanket covering his chest and pulled up light medical robes he had been dressed in. He noticed that there was a faint scar on the right side of his chest and absently touched his throat and felt no scar.

“I am one of the best at both Muggle and Wizarding surgery,” Pomfrey looked proud, “the only evidence of the surgery is that faint scar on your chest. I suggest that when you return to your world, you can say that you had a run in with a bush or something...”

Harry smiled at her light humor before the doors to the hospital wing opened and both looked up to see Dumbledore walk in, dark green robes billowing behind him, making him appear very regal and powerful. Behind him was both Moody, to Harry's delight, and Crouch Jr., to his dismay. Madam Pomfrey backed from his bed a little to let Dumbledore approach him.

“How are you feeling?” the Headmaster asked in a kind voice, leaning down towards him.

“Okay,” he whispered, and to his mild surprise, his throat didn't hurt as much. “Can't speak...”

“Ah, yes,” Dumbledore adjusted his spectacles, “Poppy did say something about that when she finished the operation on you. Though I dare hope that your recovery will be swift. We nearly lost you there, my boy.”

Harry nodded, glancing at both Moody and Crouch, noting that neither of their expressions gave away their inner feelings. “My friends?”

“Lady Ravenclaw made a complete recovery and Lord Gryffindor is doing fine. Lady Selwyn and Lord Hufflepuff are also fine. They sustained very minor injuries in the battle and if it were not for their assistance, we would have lost more students than we did that day,” Dumbledore sounded proud of both Ginny and Neville's help, but Harry couldn't help but stare in shock. Students had died during the attack?

“How many?” he whispered hoarsely. He realized that even after the war in his world, he had been numb to the deaths of others. It wasn't that he did not care; it was that he had pushed all of the pain associated with those close to him dying. He had realized that a part of him secretly wished for a world where no one died and by seeing his parents, Sirius, Remus, and even Dumbledore, alive, it had blinded him to the possibility with such an attack that students were going to die. And this Fayde attack proved it true.

“Three,” Dumbledore bowed his head slightly, “Two senior Hufflepuffs and a young third-year Slytherin.”

Harry looked away, part of him ashamed that he hadn't killed the Faydes fast enough...that he had let them attack students when they were clearly after him. Further guilt and embarrassment was saved from him when the doors to the hospital wing opened again and he saw his friends run in, Ginny in the lead.

“Merlin!” Hermione shouted and Harry could clearly hear Rowena's distinct voice overlapping Hermione's call and knew that she had protected his identity in front of Moody, Crouch Jr., and Madam Pomfrey.

Ginny hovered anxiously over his bed and he gave her a faint smile and small nod to reassure her that he was fine before looking at the rest of his friends. “Hi,” he whispered, trying to smile to them before Ron suddenly swatted him none too lightly on the shoulder, making him wince. Madam Pomfrey gave a small noise of outrage but Ron just shook his head and glared at him.

“Don't you dare do that again, mate,” his best friend sounded angry, “we heard from the Professor here what happened. You try to play hero one too many times you-”

“What,” though Harry knew he should have whispered, he instead spoke levelly, ignoring the twinge of pain in his throat. “Did you really want me to leave the children to die there, Godric?” He could feel Merlin's anger buffer his own. Who did Ron and Godric think they were charging in here and getting angry with him all of the sudden?

Ron did not answer, but instead glared at him and Harry could see the Godric-manifestation of the Dreamer within his best friend’s eyes, but he could also see the anger in them. He returned Ron’s glare with one equally heated at his own. In his mind, he could feel Merlin simmering with anger, a few snippets of images flashing through his head regarding the comment about children and leaving people to die.

Just as suddenly, his best friend leaned close to him and hissed a whispered, “A hero hurts others more than he hurts himself.”

Harry opened his mouth to retort and to get the last word in when he thought on his friend’s words and closed his mouth again, pressing his lips to a thin line as Ron pulled back, crossing his arms across his chest and looked away from him, staring at nothing in particular. Those had to be words of wisdom from Godric and Merlin’s equally shocked feeling reinforced that assumption.

“Honestly, you idiots,” Hermione’s voice broke them out of their silence and for the first time Harry realized that they still had an audience of sorts, in the form of Dumbledore, Mad-Eye, and Crouch Jr. A discreet cough from Dumbledore told him that they had overheard the argument between him and Ron and he felt heat rise to his face in slight embarrassment.

He looked anywhere but at the others and noticed to his dismay the peering faces of a few Aurors and Professors by the doorway. Did they also hear his row with Ron? How utterly embarrassing the Dreamer that was Merlin within him fumed, and how childish of him.

“Before we leave you to catch up with your friends Merlin, I believe this is as good of a time as any to address this,” Dumbledore pulled out one of the envelopes that Harry recognized as the invitations to the Founders’ Ball from Lucius Malfoy. “And,” the Headmaster continued glancing at the door, “Remus, would you please come in? And close the door behind you.”

The Aurors and Professors by the door to the Hospital Wing all looked guiltily at each other before they parted to let Remus through before he glanced back towards the sea of eyes and muttered something that was out of his hearing range and closed the door firmly behind him, taking his wand out and muttering a spell.

Briefly Harry wondered if in this world the Weasley twins had any Extendable Ears. A quick glance at Ginny and Ron told him that his friends were also thinking of the same thing. Only Neville looked confused while Hermione was giving a stink eye to Ron.

“I still think it’s a trap,” Mad-Eye growled, looking none too happy as Dumbledore set the invitation down, written with Harry’s name on it on his bedside table.

“You think everything’s a trap Moody,” Crouch Jr. shook his head and Harry wanted to suddenly say that he agreed with Mad-Eye, but Merlin whispered caution in his head. Just because he wanted to disagree with everything Crouch Jr. said in this world would further suspicion upon himself. But he still couldn’t let the fact that said man attacked him without even confirming his identity the other day did not go past him.

“I presume all of you had a chance to read your invitations?” Dumbledore glanced at his friends and all four of them nodded.

“Why do you think it is a trap?” Neville spoke up, his voice overlaid with the melodic tones of Nathan Hufflepuff.

“The Founders’ Ball has its roots back through many generations within the Wizarding World. Each country with its own main Wizarding School has a Founders’ Ball. Durmstang for example, holds its Founders’ Ball in mid-winter. Consider it like a high society charity party for those with money, except those that attend must prove they have a direct blood relation to one of the Founders of the school. In this case, of Hogwarts.”

“But if you are correct Headmaster, we are the ancestors of those that would have founded this school,” Hermione’s Rowena-influenced speech sounded a bit confused.

“Yes, and that seems to be an interesting conundrum,” the Headmaster turned to Mad-Eye who harrumphed and cleared his throat.

“Invitations only go out to those who do not have any of the Founders’ blood, for example, the Professor here,” Mad-Eye gestured to Remus, “was invited several years ago.”

“And?” Ron asked, impatient.

“The Death Eaters there tried to ambush him and kill him,” Mad-Eye replied bluntly.

“There are Death Eaters there?”

“How do you know of Death Eaters?” Crouch Jr. looked at Ginny with suspicious eyes.

“The Headmaster told us when we first arrived,” Harry whispered, bringing the younger Crouch’s suspicious gaze upon him.

“So it could be a trap?” Neville turned the conversation back to its origins and Harry glanced at his friend, noting that while Neville in the guise of Nathan Hufflepuff would have probably not have thought to do such a thing, he was a bit shy after all, but Nathan obviously had practice deflecting people back to the right track of any conversation.

“Or an opportunity for the Dark Lord and his forces to recruit you and your friends,” Dumbledore stroked his beard in contemplation.

“Headmaster, surely you are not thinking…” Remus looked surprised.

“There is a point in that,” Harry suddenly found himself speaking up, hoarsely, but nonetheless he could feel Merlin’s heavy influence over his words and wondered what the Dreamer within him was getting at. He wanted to push away the influence to make himself stop speaking, but something in him hesitated. “For all we know, this Lucius Malfoy may be to be a potential ally-“

“He’s Slytherin, can’t trust the lot of them,” Moody cut him off.

“Whatever house he is in bears the same name as my friend Salazar,” Harry could feel Merlin’s prickling anger, “and Sal is not evil as you had just implied.”

“You’ve obviously not been in this world long enough-“

“But if this is an opportunity for Malfoy and his cohorts to discover who we truly are, cannot we do the same?” he finished smoothly, overriding any other protest from Moody and inwardly Harry realized what Merlin had just said. He wanted them to go to the Founders’ Ball and spy in the midst of a potential hotbed of Death Eaters?!

Apparently his friends also thought him crazy as he glanced at them and saw Ron with a completely pole axed expression on his face, but oddly both Neville and Ginny’s expressions were decidedly neutral. It had to be the Dreamer within them reasoning with them silently.

“Merlin does have a point, Headmaster,” Remus said thoughtfully, “it is an opportunity, but one not taken lightly. Lucius will not be so foolish to ambush and attack our five friends here without knowing their potentials. Even if he did find out they were Dreamers, he would not dare attack with only four other Dreamers there beside himself.”

“Four others?” Ginny asked.

“Lucius Malfoy has long been known as the Dreamer of Corruptions,” the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor explained, “and some of his usual guests each year are also Dreamers. The Founders’ Ball has long been a neutral ground in this war we’ve been fighting. However in recent years, both sides have been taking it as an opportunity to spy on the other.”

“But I thought you said you were attacked?” Ron looked confused.

Remus gave the ghost of a smile, “Not quite the word I would have used. But yes, essentially the Dreamers of the other side discovered that I possessed the remaining powers of the Virtues of Man and tried to convert me to their side. Needless to say, that was the last time I went to the Ball.”

“Does Grindelwald or Voldemort attend the Ball?” Harry asked quietly, taking a query from Merlin who was curious about the Dreamer of Fears. He was more concerned about Voldemort than Grindelwald, having just killed the Dark Lord in his world less than a few weeks ago by his reckoning.

“Very bold of you to say the Dark Lord and the Black King’s name,” Crouch Jr. looked at him shrewdly.

“We spent the last year living in fear of a name we had just begun to say without fear all because of a curse put upon such a name,” Hermione spoke up and Harry shared a look between her and Ron. When Voldemort had made his name taboo, it had prevented them from even speaking it in the latter half of the months before they made their stand at Hogwarts.

“Fortunately no, as far as we know,” Dumbledore replied, “as such I too have abstained myself from the Ball as well as not to upset the balance of neutrality established there.”

“You’re fighting a cold war,” Hermione suddenly spoke up, tilting her head in comprehension and the others looked at her in confusion, except for Dumbledore who nodded.

“That is one way to look at this war we’ve been fighting, Lady Ravenclaw,” Harry could hear the slight emphasis of warning in the Headmaster’s tone on Hermione’s persona’s name.

“But surely at this point there would be negotiations-“

“We attempted a cease fire of sorts with the previous Black Queen ten years ago, but that had failed when he was assassinated by his successor,” Remus said sadly, “it was also when we lost the Ministry of Magic and had to evacuate completely to Hogwarts.”

“Who is this Black Queen, Black King, they sound like wizard’s chess pieces I keep hearing about,” Ron asked.

“The Dark Lord has a peculiar oddity for naming his top lieutenants after wizard’s chess pieces instead of calling them by their Dreamer titles,” the Headmaster explained, “but we have discovered that not all of his chess piece lieutenants are Dreamers. Some apparently were heir apparent or were the best of his Death Eaters. The Black King is Voldemort, his chief lieutenant and the instigator of the Dark Lord’s will. Black Queen is rumored to be the chief assassin of the Dark Lord and so forth. What bothers me more of these invitations is that Lucius Malfoy is not only my rival Minister of Magic, but also the Dreamer of Corruptions and the Black Bishop, the Dark Lord’s chief information officer.”

“So? Bishop pieces are limited to moving diagonally across the board and only on the color they are assigned to. It limits them and there are moves to make with the bishop and other pieces to trap a rival King, but he needs…” Ron trailed off as frowned, thinking mostly to himself. Harry could mostly imagine Godric within him explaining something to him. “Like any good wizard’s chess player he’s using the other side’s moves against themselves, isn’t he?”

Dumbledore nodded, “The possibility is what disturbs me.”

“Then should not the answer be simple? We do not attend,” Neville spoke up.

However, Harry glanced at the Headmaster, Moody, and Crouch Jr., narrowing his eyes. If the answer was that simple why didn’t they just say it in the beginning? He realized that the three of them wanted Merlin and his Knights to attend the Ball. Whether to put themselves forth as spies or even as bait for the Death Eaters and Dreamers of the Sins of Man to attack he did not know.

Apparently Hermione had also come to the same conclusion as Rowena spoke through her voice, a bit disappointed. “You would like us to attend the Ball.”

“That is our hope,” Dumbledore replied solemnly, “the appearance of the Dreamers or at least Merlin and his Knights would be a boost of morale to those who are still under the enslavement of the Dark Lord and his forces. It would give us a fighting chance-“

“We have not said we would fight this war for you, only to aid if possible. We are still looking for a way to return to our time,” Hermione cut the Headmaster off and Harry glanced at his friend in surprise. He had never heard Hermione interrupt the Headmaster nor her tone as such. The Dreamer within Hermione was probably feeding on Hermione’s anxiety and magnifying it if she sounded this imperious and bossy.

“Rowena, the Headmaster does have a point,” Neville spoke up quietly, “we’ve arrived in another time and in another war, but if the forces of good are faltering, we should aid them.”

“What about our own time? We’ve only just finished one battle and now another?” Ron asked, frustrated, “look I can understand where you’re going with this, but it’s not our fight. For all we know, we can be home before this Ball even happens.”

Harry understood Neville’s rationale for staying behind. He too was starting to feel the tug of family in the short time he had been here. It was different than what he had felt whenever he was in Mrs. Weasley’s presence, or even Sirius’ but while his family in this world was a broken shell of who he thought they were, they were still alive and that counted a lot more than he could ever imagine. While Neville’s parents were alive in their own world, he had to witness the agony of seeing them probably never recover from the Cruciatus Curse and seeing his parents whole, hale, and healthy made the long absent feelings of familial ties even stronger.

However, Ron and Hermione did have valid points too. They had just come from their own war, their victory from Voldemort. They had suffered so much and now all they wanted to do was to go home and rest. They didn’t want to be on the run or even have the enormous pressures of trying to save another world upon them. He understood that all too well. After Voldemort’s death, he had realized that he felt so thin, so stretched out, that he could have just probably climbed to Gryffindor tower and slept for a week straight without even blinking another eye.

He glanced at Ginny who looked back at him before shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders. She had bore so much in her sixth year at Hogwarts had dealt with the tyranny of the Alectos and other Death Eaters who were at the school. She and Neville and countless of other students who had waited so long for him to finally defeat Voldemort. She was telling him that either way she would support his decision. He gave her a brief hidden smile, glad for the silent support.

“Headmaster,” he whispered, feeling a slight strain on his throat, “what are the consequences of ignoring such an invite?”

“I do not know for sure, but some of our allies on the outside may be affected or persecuted, or everything would be ignored and life would continue as usual,” there was no twinkle in the Headmaster’s eyes.

Harry had a nasty feeling that it was more of the former that would happen than the latter. If Grindelwald was anything like Voldemort then there would be serious consequences for those he had under watch or suspicion of being in league with the real Ministry in this world. Even so, ignoring someone like Lucius Malfoy was not wise. The man always had plans within his plans and sometimes the consequences of slighting him showed up in the near future.

Even if they managed to leave before the Ball, it would be like a slight and a slap to Malfoy’s face. For all he knew Malfoy would use Tom Riddle’s diary in this world and have the Horcrux possess some hapless student to unleash the Basilisk. And there was nothing anyone could do to stop the giant serpent from terrorizing the school. His counterpart in this world was dead, and he himself had lost the ability to be a Parselmouth after the Voldemort part of him was destroyed in the forest weeks ago.

By sending the invitations, Harry knew that Malfoy had laid the first part of a trap to keep them in this world longer. But…perhaps Merlin and his Knights could turn that to their advantage. A show of force, a boost of morale as Dumbledore had put it, to give the Army of Light a fighting chance before they left for their own world. Then perhaps the consequences would not be so dire.

“Can we speak to you alone?” Harry asked and saw frowns appear on both Moody and Crouch Jr.’s faces before Dumbledore nodded and glanced at the others who looked reluctant to leave. Only Remus had an impassive look and it was one that Harry could not read.

As soon as the three other adults left, closing the door behind them in the Hospital Wing, Harry saw Dumbledore take his wand out and wave it around him, before a quiet buzzing sound filled the air.

“ _Muffliato_ can be used in a giant expanse?” Hermione looked surprised.

“It takes a lot of concentration, Miss Granger, but it can be done,” Dumbledore nodded, “now, Harry, what is it?”

He rubbed his throat slightly before clearing it and whispered, “Has the Chamber of Secrets been opened?”

There was the distinct narrowing of eyes from the Headmaster and slight gasp from Ginny, but Harry reached out and squeezed her hand in comfort as the Headmaster shook his head slowly. “No. The last time the Chamber was opened a student was expelled and it was a long time ago.”

“Hagrid, right?” he asked.

“Yes…how-“

“Then for all you know, Salazar Slytherin’s basilisk is still down there, prowling the tunnels,” Harry frowned.

“How is this…?” Ron started but Harry shook his head at his best friend.

“Oh!” Hermione exclaimed, “I get it. If we decline Lucius Malfoy’s invitation, it will be like a slap in the face to him. You think he could get his revenge by using the Basilisk in conjunction with the diary.”

“No…” he could hear Ginny’s strained whisper and looked up to see her face completely pale.

“It’s all right Ginny, he’s not-“

“No,” she shook her head vehemently, “I’m not letting him possess my counterpart in this world again!”

“We won’t,” Harry reached out to comfort her as best as he could while still sitting in his hospital bed, but instead, she sat down on the bed next to him and he put his arm around her, pulling her close as she trembled with fear.

He glanced up at Ron and the others and saw them look at Ginny with sympathetic eyes. They all remembered the dangers and horrors of their second year.

“Is it safe to presume that you will be attending the Ball then?” Dumbledore asked, breaking the uneasy silence.

“Yeah,” Ron answered for them, “but we’re still trying to find a way home.”

“If we do find one, we’ll wait until the Ball is over before we leave,” Harry whispered, glancing at Ron who pursed his lips for a second before nodding in agreement.

“Mum’s gonna go spare wondering where we are,” he could hear his friend mutter none too loudly.

“Thank you,” the Headmaster bowed his head slightly before lifting his wand. However, the buzz still remained before he spoke up, “Pardon me for asking, but what is this diary related to the Basilisk?”

“In our world, Voldemort created seven Horcruxes, pieces of his soul scattered away on objects to truly remain immortal even if his own body was killed. One of them was a diary that was in the possessions of Lucius Malfoy. It unleashed the Basilisk upon Hogwarts because it could speak Parselmouth,” Hermione omitted the part where the Horcrux had possessed Ginny in her first year to make her lose more and more of herself until there was barely anything but an empty shell left for the Horcrux to take over.

“Horcruxes you say?”

“They don’t exist in this world?” Harry whispered.

“They do, but seven for the Black King…that may give us an advantage…” Dumbledore’s eyes gleamed for a second.

“Six most likely,” Harry replied and to the Headmaster’s questioning gaze and the surprise of the others he took a deep breath and pushed his hair away from his forehead, revealing the lightning bolt scar, “I was the seventh in my world. If you say that my counterpart is dead in this world, then there would only probably be six.”

“Ah,” he could see that Dumbledore wanted to ask more, but noticed that he was already feeling the strain of talking too much for a day on his throat and waved his wand. The buzzing sound disappeared, leaving the quiet stillness of the infirmary. “Thank you for this information and your cooperation. Please, now, get some rest and all of you, thank you.”

With that, the Headmaster swept out of the Hospital Wing, opening the doors and nearly making a few of the Aurors who had been standing by the doors in vain attempt to listen into their conversation fall to the ground. As soon as the door closed, Harry leaned back against his pillows, feeling exhausted even though he had just woken up. He could see that his friends, especially Ginny and Neville wanted to ask him about his scar and him being the seventh Horcrux, but they too also saw how exhausted he was.

“Well at least we know one Dreamer on the opposite side,” Ron commented off-handedly and Harry was about to question it sleepily when he realized with a start that the others probably did not know that the Dreamers were based on the Seven Sins and Six Virtues of Man. He was certain that Ginny and Neville were already attuned to their Dreamer personas, having full control over their newfound powers, but Hermione and Ron and even he himself were still unsure of how to achieve control of their innate Dreamer powers.

He sat up again, lost in thought. What was it that his father had said during the meeting to Ron? Courage?

“You’re the Dreamer of Courage,” he whispered and saw his best friend look at him, a doubtful expression on his face.

“You all right?”

“Yeah, but,” he shot a look at Hermione, hoping that she knew more about religious history than he did. The Dursleys went to Sunday church as far as he knew, but he had never been allowed to go, his relatives afraid that if any accidental magic happened while he was there they would also be labeled by association as making deals with the Devil. “Hermione, do you know what the Seven Sins of Man are?”

“Lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath, envy, and pride. Why?”

“Because those are the Dreamers who opposed the six in the story,” Harry could feel the adrenaline shooting through him as he pieced together the information.

“But Fears and Corruption aren’t in the Seven Sins of Man,” Neville spoke up behind all of them, a bit lost.

“No, but they’ve probably changed over the years,” Hermione also started to realize what he had initially thought of, “oh Harry that’s brilliant! There are only technically five Virtues of Man in myth - courage, wisdom, loyalty, temperance, and justice. But since the Headmaster is their leader, the supposed littlest of the Dreamers is the Dreamer of Hopes.”

Harry wanted to tell his friends what his Dreamer persona Merlin had told him that it was _he_ who was the new Hopes apparently, but he didn’t want to bring all of the attention onto himself. He still did not know how to fully utilize his powers much less know how to do so. And it still seemed like Dumbledore had control of his Dreamer powers and that was something Harry was content with. It was Dumbledore’s world, not his.

“And you, Ginny, are the Dreamer of Faith, Neville, I think you’re the Dreamer of-“

“Justice,” Neville colored slightly, ducking his head.

“Suits you since you loped the head off of that stupid snake,” Ron elbowed the shy Gryffindor in the ribs.

“And Harry’s dad thinks that Ron’s the Dreamer of Courage apparently,” Hermione nearly stepped on Ron’s words and there was a definite squeak of surprise from his best friend before shaking his head.

“You really think so?”

“Well, at least Godric inside of you thinks so. Ask him,” Hermione shrugged.

Harry saw his friend close his eyes for a few seconds to talk to the Dreamer persona within before opening it and scrunching up his face. “He says possibly, but he can’t exactly tell me how I can unlock it? Ginny?”

“I…don’t remember how I was able to become the Dreamer of Faith, sorry,” she looked sheepish and all eyes turned to Neville who also shook his head rapidly, indicating that he too did not remember.

“Which leaves just Wisdom since Professor Lupin still is the Dreamer of Temperance-“

“Wait, how do you know he’s Temperance?”

“Honestly Ron, do you even listen to your Dreamer?”

Harry had to suppress a quiet snicker of laughter as he heard a resounding no from Merlin within himself before a floating memory of the same thing of Merlin telling Godric if he ever listened, appeared in his head.

“Remus still has full control of his Dreamer powers and he’s Temperance,” Hermione shook her head before pinning him with a look, “that only leaves one. Wisdom.”

“Probably you,” Harry whispered, “you’ve got more knowledge of all spells and applications, and even magical history than I know.”

“But you have practical experience. Wisdom isn’t just all books and theory you know,” Hermione countered.

“Maybe we could find out who’s the previous Dreamer of Wisdom and ask what qualities are looked for?” Neville spoke up.

“Good point,” Hermione nodded in agreement, just as Madam Pomfrey came out of her office and upon seeing the four of them still crowded around his bed bustled over, a frown on her face.

“I’m sorry dearies, but Merlin needs his rest. If you can please return later?” she asked and Harry could feel the short burst of adrenaline in him wearing off, leaving him bone tired and ready to fall asleep.

He saw his friends nod, and Ginny squeeze his hand gently before getting up from his bed and leaving with the rest of his friends as the Head Nurse shooed them out of the Hospital Wing none too gently. Turning over to one side, he closed his eyes and immediately fell into a deep restful sleep. However, one nagging thought lingered.

If he was supposed to be the Dreamer of Hopes, then why did Dumbledore claim that he was still the Dreamer of Hopes?


	13. Secret Measures

Over the next few days Harry could feel himself getting better and soon, he was able to speak normally. Madam Pomfrey discharged him from the Hospital Wing a day after his good prognosis and Harry rejoined his friends in the Room of Requirement. He had been told that the school had officially closed for summer holidays, however brief, and while most of the students had gone home, some, especially Muggle-borns, stayed nearby in Hogsmeade. However, there were just a few students lingering in the halls, whom apparently lived within the school grounds.

When he had asked his friends about them, Hermione had told him that they were orphans, parents killed in the war, but with no surviving relatives and no one else that wanted to taken them in, the school housed them in smaller apartments in a separate wing of the school. Harry saw that some of them had stared in awe at him as he had made his way back to the Room of Requirement, but more than one had surely looks on their faces, as if to say that they were proud that they were war orphans.

He realized that in a way, he had been quite fortunate to at least have the Dursley’s home to call his own for the sixteen years he had been living with them. His world was also lucky in the fact that Voldemort had barely survived the rebounding of the Killing Curse on October 31st, 1981 and the world was at a relative peace for all those years.

A glance at the calendar told him that July 2nd; the appointed day for the Founders’ Ball was fast approaching. However, it was only a week away when Dumbledore called for another Order of the Ministry meeting and requested that he and his friends attend. Harry and the others did so reluctantly.

Hermione had found out that Professor McGonagall was the previous Dreamer of Wisdom, but even she did not have a concrete answer as to what Wisdom manifested itself as, leaving her puzzled as to which one of the two of them was the last Dreamer. Another thing that made him reluctant to attend the meeting was the feeling of a distance between him and James Potter. He had thought that he had broken at least some ice between his father and him, but judging by James’ reaction when he had woken up the first time in the Hospital Wing and the fact that he had not seen Sirius or any of the others besides his friends when he was staying there, made him feel disappointed and sad.

He knew that he should not hope to get close to them; after all, they were different than he knew them in his world, but a part of him still yearned for a semblance of a family, especially since everyone he loved was alive in this world. But it seemed like Dumbledore and his friends had made no progress on getting them home any time soon, so they were here for the duration.

The Auror Marion Sadow had been sent to escort them once more late at night and they had followed her, encountering no one on their way to the meeting place. However, instead of it being in the adjoining room next to the Great Hall, it was held in the main suite of the staff’s apartments in Hogwarts. Harry had never been in this area of the school and neither had his friends judging by the surprised looks they all wore as they entered.

“Welcome,” Dumbledore greeted them as they entered with eyes upon them once more, making Harry feel a bit uncomfortable, but not as much as he did when they had been first introduced to the Order of the Ministry. He could feel Merlin’s presence wash over him like a soothing balm, a reassurance that he was here to make sure that his identity was still safe.

“I would like to first apologize to the rest of the Order,” Dumbledore turned to the others, “for the relocation of tonight’s meeting. I had received word that some of my other Aurors have been suspicious of our gatherings of late.”

Harry had no doubt that Crouch Jr. was attempting to spy on the meetings and glanced at the mysterious Marion who stood next to the man he had been told was her brother Marius. Had she tipped the Order off to Crouch Jr.? Or was it Wormtail, still lingering in the room? He had expressed his feelings to Wormtail to the others and knew that Ron felt the same way as he did, after all, Wormtail used to be his pet Scabbers only to find out that he was nothing more than a common murderer, but it had been Hermione surprisingly that had urged caution, saying that perhaps this world’s Wormtail was not who he was.

Harry had refused to believe her, stating that even Snape was still a spy for the Order in this world and he was pretty sure Crouch Jr. was a Death Eater to spy on the Order so it stood that Wormtail was a traitor-in-waiting. However, she had countered that perhaps Wormtail wasn’t even the Potters’ secret keeper that fateful night that his counterpart had died. Maybe it had been someone else.

He had not said anything afterwards, hating that she was perhaps right. That he did not know that this world’s Wormtail was his parents’ secret keeper and may not have been in any position to betray them.

“Little Crouch poking his nose where it doesn’t belong?” his father spoke up quietly, but his tone full of venom. “I can fix that.”

“Potter,” Mad-Eye glared at his father who shrugged but fell silent.

Harry blinked in surprise. He had seen the anger his father had displayed when Crouch Jr. had attacked him without provocation all those days ago, but had thought it to be an isolated incident especially seeing his father silent and morose afterwards regarding other things. There had to be some history between his father and Crouch Jr. to warrant such a display of emotions from a man who had been obviously broken over the years.

“Regardless,” Dumbledore paid no heed to his father’s heated words, “we must be extra vigilant in the coming days. The invitations given to our guests here to the Founders’ Ball tells us that there may be more than one spy amongst us and I am not just talking about the student body.”

“Could they have compromised Sev’s position?” Lily spoke up, Snape sitting beside her on a couch.

This was the first time Harry had seen the Potions Master back since Dumbledore ordered him to spy upon the Death Eaters. He was curious as to what news he brought back, but all thoughts of curiosity were driven out of his head hearing his mother’s pet nickname for Snape. He still could not believe that his mother had left his father for Snape. What happened to drive such a painful rift between them?

“At this time no, but we shall be cautious,” Dumbledore shook his head, “I’ve gathered all of you here to make final preparations for those of you attending the Founders’ Ball and to confirm your attendance.

“Merlin and his Knights,” he gestured towards them, “have graciously accepted the invitations in an effort to spearhead our newest initiative to retake the Ministry and bolster support for our colleagues working within its confines.”

“We will have our usual set up this year with a few extra additions. Marius and Marion will be the rear guard as usual. Sirius, I expect you to be civil this year with your cousin?”

“I’ll try, but no guarantees. At least I don’t have to worry about Bellatrix,” Sirius replied and Harry briefly wondered which cousin he was talking about when he realized that Narcissa Malfoy was originally Narcissa Black, part of the House of Black.

“Amelia, can we expect your attendance there?” he turned to the familiar sight of the square-jawed short grey-haired witch who nodded once. Amelia Bones still looked and seemingly acted the same as in his world, but Harry just felt a glimpse of a deeper severity in her. He briefly wondered if she was still Head of Magical Law Enforcement, but doubted that as it was controlled by Malfoy’s Ministry.

“Susan is also expected to attend,” Amelia smiled, one full of teeth, “she’s learning fast to become an Auror.”

“Excellent. She will be a valuable asset to us when her training is complete,” Dumbledore looked proud at the announcement, “for those of you who do not know, Miss Susan Bones just graduated this year from Slytherin.”

Out of the corner of his eye Harry caught the surprised looks from his friends. Susan Bones in Slytherin instead of Hufflepuff? That was certainly the biggest change they had heard of their classmates.

“Now, James and Lily, will your children be attending this year?” he turned his head back and forth to the two who were sitting on opposite sides of the room. The gulf and divide between them could not be larger.

“Yes.”

“No.”

The two looked at each other across the room before quickly looking away, the silence between them uncomfortable.

“Why not James?” Dumbledore rubbed his forehead, seemingly familiar with his stubbornness. Harry was surprised that his father had said no while his mother had said yes. He would have thought it opposite for his mother to be the more protective one.

“I don’t care for the fact that Iris is seeing the slimy git Malfoy nor do I want my children to be used in such a way. They may bear my surname, but they will not be looked upon kindly.”

At once Harry realized what his father meant and glanced at his mother who had a derisive frown on her face. He recalled from Dumbledore that the Ball was only for those who could trace the blood of the Founders in themselves, which meant only purebloods, those with long pureblood lines that extended that far back, were able to attend.

He also realized that spouses of those with blood tracing back to the Founders could probably also attend, even if they themselves were not pureblood, but it was frowned upon. That was the argument he had heard when he and Ginny had visited Dumbledore soon after their arrival. His father had not wanted to attend the Founders’ Ball, finding it distasteful and apparently trashy. But Mad-Eye, Sirius, and even Dumbledore had tried to convince him, mentioning something about the fact that he was their best. Best at what he did not know, but he had a feeling that his father was probably one of the best undercover operatives at the Ball for them to be pressuring him so.

He also realized that his father had been roped into attending this year with the utmost reluctance, probably because of the separation between him and his wife. And so he understood his father’s reluctance to put his children in a potential hotbed of harm’s way.

“They are proof that the Dark Lord has no power over Muggle-borns like me,” Lily spoke up, her tone a bit nasty, “that _my_ children are proud of their blood. That someone like Malfoy can’t stop his own son from falling in love with _my_ little girl. If any of you think otherwise, then you’re just cowards.”

Even though her words were directed at the rest of the room, Harry could see that the last part of her statement was clearly intended for James, and the mark hit home as he saw his father’s jaw tighten with emotion at being called a coward and look down.

“James, Lily does have a point. Your children have been safe for the past two years they’ve attended. If anything goes wrong, which I doubt it would, Marion and Marius would be the first to sprint them away, all right?” Dumbledore looked at him and Harry heard the warning tone that brook for no argument in there. He was surprised at how forceful the Headmaster sounded but realized that he had made it an order from the Minister to one of his Aurors.

“Understood,” James did not even bother to argue or acknowledge it, instead sinking further into his seat. Around him, his friends gave him worried looks and even Sirius looked to try to place a comforting arm on his shoulder, but stopped the abrupt movement awkwardly and swung his hand back around to scratch the back of his head.

“Now, Arthur, can we expect your wife and you to attend along with some of your children?”

“Charlie’s in Romania, so not him, but Bill is willing to attend providing he can bring Fleur,” Mr. Weasley spoke up in the far corner, stepping out of the shadows.

Harry heard a squeak of suppressed surprise from Ron as they had not even seen him when they arrived to the meeting. He was glad to hear that Fleur was still with Bill, married or not, he did not know, but at least the two of them were still alive along with Charlie.

“Of course, he can. However, we may need to provide some protective charms around Miss Delacour-”

“Protective charms?” Hermione spoke up quietly, interrupting Dumbledore.

“Ah yes, forgive me. But Fleur Delacour, a wonderful woman mind you, the winner of the Triwizard Tournament three years ago, is half-Veela. They are akin to perhaps nymphs and sirens in your time?”

“Yes, the High Elves have an alliance with them,” Ginny spoke up, the melodious, yet serious tones of Selwyn the High Elf coloring her words.

“Yes, well, Durningshire Manor has some protections against it to prevent people like her from entering. Mr. Weasley will have to notify Minister Malfoy of his accompanying guest and we’ll have to accommodate to her needs to help her enter the Manor,” Dumbledore explained.

“What happens if the blood is diluted?” Hermione asked.

“Through successive generations then it is fine. However in Miss Delacour’s case, her mother was a Veela, so her blood has not been able to be diluted thoroughly.”

Harry remembered meeting Fleur’s mother during the days leading up to Bill and Fleur’s wedding. He had known that she had Veela blood in her, but this was definitely different if Mademoiselle Delacour was a full Veela and if Fleur was the winner of the Triwizard Tournament instead of him and Cedric Diggory.

“Ah,” was all Hermione said before Dumbledore nodded and turned back to address Mr. Weasley.

“Fred and George will not be attending, neither will Ron nor Ginny. I believe my youngest son has told me that he would rather eat spiders than let his girlfriend, Hermione, come to any harm,” Mr. Weasley looked decidedly proud at that statement and Harry managed to suppress a grin of his own as he glanced at his two best friends.

He saw the blush form on Hermione’s face and Ron generally nodding to what his father said. However there was no mention of Percy and he wondered if like in their world, Percy had decided to join the Ministry opposite of what his father and rest of family had done.

“Alice? Can we expect you and your husband?”

“Me yes, Frank however, has pressing matters to attend to the Ministry that night. He would not say what, but I have a feeling that it may be an attack of sorts,” Alice Longbottom spoke up and for the first time, Harry was surprised at how strong and forceful the woman sounded. This was the matron of the Longbottom family, and he felt a swell of pride for Neville to be their son. And it also seemed that Frank Longbottom was alive in this world, but in deep undercover for the Order of the Ministry.

“Hmm, any information would be of great help. I will set the Aurors up on a watch, thank you,” Dumbledore nodded mostly to himself, pursing his lips, “and your son?”

“Neville is currently in training with Professor Sprout. He will be unavailable for the rest of the summer,” Alice replied, waving a dismissive hand.

The Headmaster just nodded. If Dumbledore seemed taken aback by the forcefulness of the woman he did not let it show on his face. Harry however, recognized the zealous protective streak Alice Longbottom had for her son and it startled him. “Then can we count on you as part of the rear guard with the Sadows?”

“Of course,” Alice replied.

“Good, then the plan is all set,” Dumbledore clapped his hands together and Harry felt like he was missing a piece of the puzzle.

“Sir,” he raised his hand slightly, “what do we do?”

“Mingle, of course,” the Headmaster’s eyes twinkled slightly, “no doubt Lucius Malfoy will want to think of you and your Knights as the crown jewel of this year’s Ball. Make him feel comfortable, tell regale those with stories of your battles and we will do the rest.”

Harry suddenly felt distinctly uncomfortable, shaking hands with the man who wanted to kill them over the years. Surrounded by other Death Eaters who thought of them as Merlin and his Knights. But he couldn’t back out now, not with the threat of retaliation potentially hanging over their heads, nor with the sacrifices and compromises the others in the Order had made to ensure that they would get the upper-hand in this war.

“Minister, you must understand, we’ve just come from war. This concept of the Ball is all but alien to us. Perhaps if we were able to get some advice from those who have been there in previous years?” Ginny spoke up, still under Selwyn’s influence.

“Ah, forgive me. Yes of course,” Dumbledore nodded.

Harry recognized the subtle ploy she had inflicted upon Dumbledore. By allowing them time to talk to others, she was allowing them to talk to the people they wanted to talk to without giving away their purpose. It allowed them to further understand the world they had fallen into without having to constantly go through Dumbledore’s point of view. It also gave him the perfect excuse to talk to his mother and father without having to be so formal and under Merlin’s guise all of the time. He could find out more about his family in this world and for that he was grateful to Ginny.

“If that is all, this meeting is adjourned. Those attending the Ball will meet by the front entrance an hour before the scheduled arrival,” the Headmaster clasped his hands together, “good luck.”

* * *

A couple of days had passed since the meeting and Harry finally searched out for his father after wondering why he had been avoiding him for the longest time. He had asked some of the Aurors who were part of Moody’s group and eventually found his father on the Quidditch pitch, not flying, but rather sitting in the Gryffindor section of the grandstands.

He expected to see Sirius, Remus, or even Wormtail with him, but there was no one and to Harry, seeing his father high up on the grandstand, all alone, was a very depressing sight. Even from the distance where he had entered, James Potter struck a morose and sullen figure and Harry raised an arm in greeting to get his father’s attention.

He saw a small wave back, allowing him to climb further without having the fear of being hexed and finally made it to the top of the grandstand. He had never realized how tall and how many steps there were in the grandstand, having played on the team during his years at Hogwarts instead of sitting in the audience.

The day after the meeting Hermione had immediately cornered him, Ron, and Neville demanding that they all go into Hogsmeade to find dress robes appropriate to the Founders’ Ball. Ron had mumbled something about perhaps wearing what they had all just brought, but Ginny had told them that she had learned it was a white tie affair, the most formal of all affairs.

So they had reluctantly accompanied the two girls to Hogsmeade to find the appropriate wear and balked at the cost of affording such a set of robes and dresses at the formal dress shop. Ron in particular nearly had a fit and almost fainted at seeing the price tag, but surprisingly the amount of galleons they had was more than enough to cover for the cost of the formal wear and even have plenty left over for Hermione and Ginny to buy a few accompanying jewels to match their dresses.

Harry finally sat down on the bench near his father, slightly exhausted and winded from the long climb.

“Did you find the formal wear you were looking for?”

“How did you…?” Harry glanced at his father before his eyes widened in realization.

“You sent the note and bag of galleons with Fawkes, didn’t you?” he realized that his father, with his vast amount of wealth, was the only one he knew who would give away so much to complete strangers.

“I was about to say that your passing between Hosgmeade and Hogwarts did not go unnoticed by the Aurors, but yes, if you must know. How did you come to that conclusion?” his father looked curiously at him.

“Uh,” Harry realized that he had made a mistake in revealing that it was James who had sent the money. How could he explain without making it sound like that he knew that James Potter had a lot of money and wealth, that when he and Lily Potter died in his world, they had bequeathed it all to him? He queried Merlin within him frantically, but even the Dreamer inside of him was at a loss. So he said the first thing that came to his mind, “Just a lucky guess, I guess.”

That was most certainly not the answer his father was looking for as James stared at him surprise written on his face before he closed down his expression once more. “You are more cunning than I had anticipated Merlin; making me reveal myself like that.”

Harry breathed a silent sigh of relief, glad that his father thought otherwise. “I wanted to ask you about the Founders’ Ball. I couldn’t help but overhear that you initially didn’t want to go?” he felt Merlin coloring his words slightly, making them more formal. The Dreamer sent a tendril of caution through him and Harry was glad for the support. He did not want to do anything to close his father off.

“Trivial nonsense,” his father waved a hand, “nothing to concern yourself about. It was my emotions getting the better of me. You have nothing to fear from Lucius Malfoy while you’re there. He wouldn’t be so foolish to attack you in full view of you and your friends. Not especially with Lady Selwyn and Lord Hufflepuff as full Dreamers.”

“But aren’t there always a few of the other Dreamers there?”

“There are, but in recent years, the Dark Lord has used them for other purposes. The latent abilities of Courage still are within me, but I only can sense Dreamers now, nothing more,” his father’s gaze took a far away look, “it’s nothing to worry about.”

Harry wanted to ask how did one lose a Dreamer power, but judging by how his father reacted to any mention of Dreamers or powers, it seemed to hurt him greatly so he refrained. “What can I expect? I’ve never been good at parties and such,” he heard Merlin’s silent chuckle as the Dreamer peeked into the memory of his disastrous date at the Yule Ball in his Four Year.

“Socializing, dancing, the usual you would expect from a party. There are a few formal dances, but I would think you and your companions be excused from it seeing as you may not know the steps. The final dance of the night is characterized by the guest, or rather guests of honor in this year’s case, to conclude with a dance or event of their own.”

“I have to dance?” Harry grimaced at the prospect. Neville would be fine dancing with whomever he wanted to, even Hermione would be fine and probably Ginny too seeing as he figured girls liked that stuff. But him and Ron…oh boy…

A small bark emerged from his father’s lips and Harry glanced over to see the ghost of a smile appear on his lips and part of him was overjoyed at the show of emotion. He had made his father laugh!

“Or event. Most years it’s a dance, but when Remus was there, it was interesting,” his father commented softly.

“If I may ask, how?” he felt Merlin’s caution once more.

His father stared out at the empty pitch for long minute before sighing and running a hand through his unruly black hair, a few streaks of shiny grey flashing in the hazy cloudy sunlight. “I assume you know that Remus was invited one year as the guest of honor to the Ball?”

“Yeah, he told us,” Harry replied, “that the others there tried to convert him to their side and attacked him?”

“Remus tried to make a stand there by challenging the werewolf that had bitten him,” James said quietly, “you know he’s one, right?”

“And I believe that they do not have control over their animal forms whenever they transform. It’s not his fault, but at least the Wolfsbane gives him the clarity he needs,” Harry finished for his father and saw a slight spark of gratitude and surprise in his eyes.

“Thank you,” his father said quietly, “you don’t know how much that means to me, to Remus, and to his friends.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry could hear the raw emotion in his father’s voice and blushed slightly.

“He challenged Fenrir Greyback. That was the first time in a long while we had seen him use his powers,” his father continued after a few minutes of silence, “and was quickly suppressed by the other Dreamers there. We managed to escape, but it was the last time Remus was invited.

“Lucius is obviously taking a big risk inviting you and your friends, but I don’t think he knows you may be Dreamers, or at least we hope not.”

“Why doesn’t the Headmaster or even Grindelwald or Voldemort attend the Ball?”

“Balance,” was all his father said.

“Balan—oh…” Harry realized what James meant. The threat of neutrality would be greatly upset if the leaders of the war met each other at the Ball. However… “Couldn’t a peace treaty be reached with either Grindelwald or Voldemort there along with Dumbledore?”

This time the bark of laughter was derisive, “We tried, oh how we tried so many times… And each time, there were forces conspiring against us.”

“Professor Lupin spoke of the last time a peace treaty tried to happen was when the Black Queen was killed by his successor?”

“Yes,” his father’s eyes had a distant look before suddenly turning to him, “why do you want to know when you’ll only return to your world soon?”

“I…we…” Harry clammed up and looked away, unable to face the accusation in his father’s eyes. The eyes that told him why he should bother caring for another world when he had his own war to fight. He gritted his teeth. He wanted to help, wanted to help so badly, to get to know his parents, yet it was so dangerous… “We don’t even know how to get home.”

The silence stretched between them, like a fine tense line. Harry wondered if he had gone too far with his questioning. All he wanted to do was to get to his know his father better. But had he succeeded in putting up the tense withdrawn barrier he had seen around his father? The hurt of what was obviously his mother’s betrayal of the love they had for each other still ate at him, broke him, and kept him broken.

Had he pushed a little to much in his effort to get to know the man who was far from the arrogant, confident man he had heard stories about, seen in Snape’s memories, and even had briefly met as a ghost-like form in the two times he had a chance to see his parents?

“Just who are you…really?” he barely heard the whisper from his father, but immediately froze, Merlin taking over all of his senses, aiding him. He hoped that his appearance had changed subtly, to project who he was pretending to be instead of who he really was. With a start, he realized that as much as he wanted his father to know that he was Harry James Potter, but from another reality, he did not want his father to know. It would hurt too much for him to discover his son still alive in another world only to potentially return to his own world, leaving him with an empty shell. He wanted to protect his father from another heartbreak that could happen any day that they discovered a chance to return to their own world.

“I-“

His father suddenly looked up at him again, smiling, but it was a sad, doleful smile. One usually reserved for partings and sorrowful goodbyes, “I don’t really know who you are, even if you may be Merlin, but I know you’re trying to help.”

All words were lost on Harry’s lips as he saw the broken expression his father’s face.

“You probably are Merlin, but you don’t act so much like what we know of him. You and Lord Hufflepuff, Nathan, I’ve seen you both want to stay and help, but you try not to get involved.”

“It’s not our fight,” Harry looked away, feeling Merlin color his words, but even he could feel the betrayal of his own conscience. This was what his friends had been warning about, but he couldn’t just leave them.

“I know,” his father replied in a simple tone, “and I’ll try to use all of my powers, whatever it left of it, to help you get back home, but if you do decide to stay, you should know everything there is to know.”

“W-Why?”

“Like I said before, I may have lost all of my powers, but I can still sense Dreamers and with you and your friends’ appearance here, you lead them. You’ve given all of us something that we’ve lacked for so long.

“You’ve given us Hope.”

* * *

Sirius watched with sharp canine eyes as the young Merlin departed the stands, lost in thought as he made his way back to the castle. As soon as the young man disappeared from his eyesight, he transformed back into his human form, cracking a few bones along his spine for good measure and climbed up the last few steps of the stairs, joining his best friend in the grandstands.

“So he knows?” he asked, noting to his delight how much more relaxed James looked after Merlin had left. The young man was having a definite effect on his friend and he was glad of that. He had also been surprised at how candidly his best friend talked with him and easily too.

Merlin may not have noticed, but each time the two of them were near each other, it brought James out of his shell more and more. Sirius was going to be sad when the young man left their world and returned to his own, even though it may not be the world of Merlin as he claimed to be.

“You heard everything?” James asked, rubbing the bridge of his nose, making his glasses bounce up and down.

“Just about. So does he know about Regulus?” Sirius asked, a bit more serious.

“No,” James replied, “I didn’t tell him.”

“Hmm,” Sirius blinked a bit and tilted his head, “thanks.”

“We’re still putting out feelers to find the new Black Queen you know. I haven’t forgotten,” his best friend said quietly.

“I know,” Sirius long refused to think of anything remotely related to him, but he couldn’t help it, not with the conversation he had heard between Merlin and James. It gave him a sense of renewed hope that maybe, after all of these years, he could find out who was it that killed his brother so brutally. Had sent Hellhounds after him along with Faydes. His brother had barely survived his throat and chest hemorrhaging before succumbing to the brutal counterattack afterwards.

“So…Remus was right,” he said quietly.

“Yes he was,” James agreed. The two of them stared out at the empty pitch, a breeze blowing by, ruffling their hair. The silent agreement of not to tell anyone else what they had discovered need not be said. They were Marauders after all, and knew how to keep the best of secrets.

“Who do you think he really is? He knows few things that I would figure he wouldn’t, like how you sent the galleons,” Sirius spoke up after a few minutes of silence.

James shrugged, indicating that he did not know nor really cared to find out. “All I know is that he’s just a boy who shouldn’t have to fight this war.”

“James-“

“I know,” his friend whispered softly. “I know…I’m getting attached…”

“I wasn’t going to condemn you for that,” in fact it was the opposite. Sirius had hoped that if anyone could bring James out of his shell of despair, pity, and brokenness, it would be the young man claiming to be Merlin. God knows Lily stepped on those pieces of his shell with her hurtful actions. He had seen how James reacted to when Merlin had been injured by the Faydes. How the man had kept pacing up and down the hall of the Hospital Wing, worried for the boy’s health. How he had stayed by his bedside when he thought no one was looking in the middle of the night during his patrols.

He had wondered what had driven James so quickly to act like this, and today’s conversation made him realize that James had all along sensed that Merlin was the littlest Dreamer in the stories they knew of the Dreamers. That Merlin was the new Dreamer of Hopes, and at long last, had arrived.

After so many years without a proper Dreamer of Hopes, they had something, no pun intended, to hope for. They had been so long without any hope that James had clung onto the faintest glimmer of hope, to not let it be extinguished or to have any harm come to it. Already there was a definite change in some of the others. He could see it…many of the Aurors had bolstered support, whether it was from Merlin and his Knights’ presence, or the fact that two of the Dreamers had finally been reborn, that the forces of Light saw something to counter the darkness that was before them.

“So, what should we do?” he asked his best friend.

“The only thing we can right now. Protect them,” James replied.

“And if they leave?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when it happens,” was the rough reply.

“ _He_ isn’t going to like this if he finds out…”

“He can go to Hell for all I care.”


	14. The Founders' Ball

The night of the Founders’ Ball came all too quickly in Harry’s opinion as he adjusted the white bowtie on his shirt and fiddled with a button on his formal dress robe. The freshly starched and pressed stiffness of his white shirt and waistcoat underneath made him involuntarily straighten his back. It also didn’t help that he had his moleskin underneath everything, pressed to his left side. His Phoenix-tail feathered wand was tucked in a small pocket that had been modified by Hermione in his waistcoat. The Elder Wand was left in his trunk along with his Invisibility Cloak. He did not want two of the three Hallows anywhere near Death Eaters, neutrality or not.

He did not want to take any chances in what he thought was the den of the wolves, even with the others of the Order of the Ministry or Aurors there. Hermione had also modified the waistcoats of Ron’s and Neville’s, providing them a place to put their wands and Ron had even artfully found a place for the Deluminator in the front pocket of his dress robe.

Ginny and Hermione had agreed that the boys should get dressed first, especially since it looked like Ron was having the most trouble getting into such a formal outfit, having not been in one before. However, to Harry and Neville, it was similar to what they had worn to the Yule Ball and thus had little to no trouble changing.

The only issue Harry ran into was his tie. He had managed to make a huge knot and tie it backwards only for Ginny to shake her head and help him. He had blushed at the close contact, and received a slight glower from Ron, but had ignored it as Ginny finished adjusting his bow tie.

They were now waiting for the girls to finish changing and it had been half an hour already since the two had disappeared into the bathrooms in the Room of Requirement. Ron was fumbling with his waistcoat under his dress robe again, pulling at his tie at the same time.

“Ron, stop that!” Hermione spoke up from the door to the bathrooms and all of them looked up to see her walk out, dressed in the most exquisite gown he had ever seen. It was a layered faded light blue one strap artfully across her left shoulder, leaving her right one bare. There weren’t too many shining sequins on it, but then again, the layering of the gown made it so that it she looked completely enchanted. She wore white satin gloves that extended to her elbows and carried a small satchel-like purse that Harry thought looked vaguely familiar.

Her once bushy brown hair was pulled up in an artful bun with tresses falling down either side of her face. He realized that Hermione looked similar to what she had worn to the Yule Ball, but it was definitely a much more…elegant version of the dress she had worn.

A quick glance at Ron made him suppress a grin of laughter as he saw Ron’s jaw slacked with awe. His hands were frozen mid-adjustment to his bowtie as he stared agape at Hermione who blushed slightly before marching over and gave Ron’s tie one final adjustment, snapping him out of his funk.

“You look…wow…you look…”

“Where’s your wand?” Neville asked Hermione and she grinned at him before turning and pointing to the back of her half-strapless gown. Nestled in the corner of the back of her right hip was a barely seen small knot of brown.

“Clever,” Ron seemed to have gotten his wits back and Harry just shook his head as he turned his gaze back to the bathroom-

And promptly forgot how to speak or even think as Ginny stood by the entrance, dressed in a ball gown with the deepest of midnight greens that he had ever seen. The large straps of her gown sat just off of her shoulders, and she wore gloves of the same color as her dress. Her fiery red hair had been pulled up in waves of curls, pinned together by what looked liked two sticks in her hair.

To Harry she looked absolutely radiant, especially with the darkness of her dress making her face and hair stand out even more. He saw a pretty blush rise on her face and realized that he had been staring at her without even saying a word. A none too gentle prodding in his ribs made him blink once more and close the mouth he had not realized had fallen open before clearing his throat roughly.

“You look great Ginny,” he said as she approached him and he took her arm under his.

“Thanks. I wanted to match your eyes,” she replied. While they had been on their shopping excursion in Hogsmeade, Hermione and Ginny had refused to let them see the outfits they had picked out. However, they did pick out Harry, Ron, and Neville’s outfits, much to their chagrin and was giggling a little too much from the momentary reprieve of seriousness.

“Neville, you can join me if you want to?” Ginny glanced at Neville who immediately flashed a grateful smile and looped his arm around her other one as they headed out of the Room of Requirement and towards the front hall to meet the others. Ron and Hermione followed behind them.

“Where’s your wand?” he looked over her, wondering if she had kept it hidden in her back like Hermione did, but she just smiled at him.

“You’re looking at it,” her eyes glanced upwards and he realized that one of the two sticks looked just a little bit different than the other one and realized that she had used her wand as part of her hair accessory.

“Clever,” he commented off-handedly.

“It was Hermione’s idea mostly,” Ginny replied, “she thought that if both of us went with our hair pinned up by sticks then people would get suspicious, so only one of us did it.”

“Oh,” Harry said as they made their way down. They finally arrived after a few minutes of careful steps, especially with the girls’ poofy ball gowns. Already there was a small crowd gathered and Harry nearly did not recognize half of the people as part of the Order of the Ministry. He barely recognized his father amongst the sea of people and was shocked to see him wearing an outfit similar to his, but with a top hat and gloves.

Harry glanced down at his hands and realized that he had forgotten his gloves back in the room. A quick glance at Ron told him that his best friend had also forgotten the gloves, but Neville had remembered.

“Honestly,” Hermione clucked behind him and he turned to see her handing a pair to Ron and a pair to him.

He took it and slipped them on. “Thanks.”

“Iris, get back here! Stop running around and Eddie, stop leading your sister on a chase! Both of you behave yourselves!” he heard his mother suddenly shout out as the high pitched squeal of a girl pierced the air followed by laughter before the two Potter children burst out in front of them, both of them looking decidedly out of breath.

Harry realized that this was the first time he had seen his brother and sister up close in this world and couldn’t help but stare. Up close instead of from where he had been sitting at the Staff Table when he had first seen Eddie and Iris Potter, Eddie definitely had a blend of his father and mother’s looks along with brown eyes. However, it was Iris who looked the most like him, especially with her emerald green eyes still twinkling in merriment.

“You don’t look old,” Eddie had also been staring at him and a sneer crossed his face, puzzling Harry until he realized that his brother was talking about him.

“I believe, young Potter, that was quite rude,” Ginny spoke up next to him and Harry glanced at her. An imperious look that he had long recognized with some help from Merlin was Selwyn’s disapproving look whenever she was either reaming out the troops or one of the children who had just done a bad thing.

“I think he looks handsome,” Iris contradicted her brother, jabbing him in the ribs none too gently as she swished around in her off-white ball gown.

“Hi,” he decided to ignore all comments and stuck his hand out to Eddie, “I’m Merlin.”

“Eddie,” his brother still sounded surly and Harry wondered what he did to even make him sound so arrogant.

“I’m Iris!” Iris suddenly shoved her brother away and curtsied in front of him, “I’m so glad to meet you Merlin, and you too Lady Selwyn. Hermione’s been talking non-stop about you since you’ve got here. She knows a ton of stories about you and how both of you have fought together. Is it true that you really are part of the High Elves? What are they like? Did you really defeat Nimue, Lady of the Lake together? How did you get yourself imprisoned by her-“

“Iris!” Lily Potter suddenly appeared, dressed in a deep dark red gown that offset her already flaming red hair and put a restraining hand on her daughter’s shoulder while giving them a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, Merlin, Lady Selwyn. My daughter can be a bit…precocious at times.”

“It’s okay,” Harry was actually amused by Iris’ seemingly incessant questions. He wondered if she got her curiosity from their mother. Eddie, however, was another story. A quick glance at him told him that he was generally unhappy with his presence here. Much like how Dudley used to wear such an expression before they had parted ways almost a year ago.

“Oh! Draco!” Iris suddenly spoke up, making him and Lily turn their heads to see none other than Draco Malfoy walking towards them, dressed handsomely and with a waistcoat in Slytherin green.

No matter what world he was in, Harry knew that the lasting image of seeing Draco, smiling, actually smiling like he was really happy, as Iris ran up to him and embraced him, would be a searing image in his head for the rest of his life. He could see the others around him look distinctly uncomfortable at such a display of emotion, especially between a Potter and a Malfoy.

“Ah, Professor,” another thing Harry could not get used to was the actual tone of respect from Malfoy’s voice when he spoke to Lily. “If you would allow me to, please let me escort your daughter to the Ball in my private carriage? I’ve only just arrived to pick her up.

He saw his mother compress her lips into a thin line and next to her; Eddie glowered fiercely, before she gestured with a flick of her wrist to the knot of Aurors, James and Sirius amongst them. “Ask him.”

“Thank you,” Draco bowed slightly before Iris grabbed onto his hand and dragged him across the hall to see to her father.

Harry watched in morbid fascination as Draco repeated his request to James Potter who looked like he could be carved out of stone for all that mattered. Beside him Sirius was giving Draco his best impression of a growling dog without actually turning into Snuffles. Remus and Wormtail who were obviously not going, but had decided to see them off along with Mad-Eye and a couple of other Aurors where trying their best not to glare at Draco, but failing miserably.

Either oblivious to everything around her or just plain ignoring the hostility directed towards her boyfriend, Iris Potter hopped from one foot to another, latching onto Draco’s arm. Finally after what seemed like an eternity, James nodded once, stiffly, before Draco bowed slightly and led Iris away.

“I am never going to get used to that, mate,” Ron whispered in his ear and Harry nodded in agreement.

“An actual, nice Draco Malfoy,” Hermione muttered none too loudly as Ron made slight retching sounds.

“We should be leaving soon,” Lily had a small frown on her face as she watched the two leave before dragging Eddie forward slightly, “Eddie, go tell the your father we should be going soon.”

“How are we going to get there?” Harry stepped forward, but his mother turned around and shook her head.

“No, you five need to wait at least ten minutes after we leave. That way it does not look like you’re entering with known Order members, but rather from Hogwarts itself,” she said.

“But how-“

“The thestrals will be pulling carriages to the Manor and back. It’s a half-hour ride by thestral, so wait until we leave then give yourselves ten minutes, all right?” his mother gave them a quick smile before hurrying away.

Harry caught a glimpse of Snape stepping out of the corridor that lead to the dungeons and intercept her; the two of them talking with heads close before he saw her reach up and kiss him quickly on the cheek before heading out of the front door. Not moments later, he saw his father walk by, not even looking at Snape before heading out himself, Eddie hot on his heels.

He was sure his father had seen the display of affection between Lily and Snape and his heart constricted in a brief moment of pain at the image. The more he thought about it, the more despair ate away at him. How could his mother do something like that? How could his father allow something like that to happen? What had happened?

A few minutes later Sirius headed out of the hall along with Marius, Marion, and surprisingly Marion’s escort for the night Barty Crouch Jr. He had thought Crouch Jr. was just there to see them off, but apparently had been completely dressed from head to toe in a formal outfit, and had Marion’s arm on his. Marion’s brother, Marius’ date for the night was another Auror who Harry recognized who was part of Crouch’s Aurors, but did not know her name.

The Sadows were definitely an odd pair Harry realized. He knew next to nothing about them and was pretty sure that they did not exist in his world. What made them so special to exist in such a twisted world as this where Dreamers and Grindelwald wandered the lands? Where the abysmal lack of faith and hope drove a wedge into two Ministries and Dumbledore had Hogwarts and Hogsmeade as the only beacon of light left?

With a start, Harry realized that with the departure of the Sadows, Sirius, and Crouch Jr., they were the only ones left in the front hall that were going to the Ball. The others gathered were just there to see their friends off. And he realized that Mr. Weasley and others like Alice Longbottom and Amelia Bones were arriving from other destinations. They were probably not known to be Order supporters, he realized.

“You reckon we should leave?” Ron asked as the others in the hall started to turn and notice them, standing in the corner.

“Probably,” he lifted his hand in a greeting to Remus and saw his former Professor smile in encouragement.

“Here we go,” Neville took a deep breath before the five of them headed out of the front door and into the mild summer night. The sight of two thestrals with a single carriage waiting for them made Harry feel apprehensive, but he managed to quell the butterflies in his stomach and they all got in. To Harry’s amazement, the carriage seemed to expand to fit all of them, especially Hermione and Ginny’s ball gowns, in without any problems.

As soon as the door closed, the carriage suddenly rocked slightly before a whooshing sound told him that they were up in the air and flying towards Durningshire Manor. It truly was a half-hour ride, all of it in tense silence before Harry felt his stomach drop slightly and knew that they were descending. He could barley see out of the carriage window, the two thestrals pulling their carriage flying high into the clouds.

But as soon as they started their descent, he saw a stately looking manor surrounded by neatly trimmed hedges and gardens of flowers and what looked like a small pond of sorts, but he couldn’t quite tell in the half-moonlit darkness. Little dots of color walking towards the entrance told him that there were more people arriving. Just then their carriage landed on the ground with a thump, throwing them all around before trotting to a stop.

The door was opened by a valet, dressed in impeccable white ensemble with a neat black bowtie and bowed low, gesturing with his hand for them to step out. “Welcome, Lords and Ladies, to Durningshire Manor.”

Neville was the first to step out followed by Ron who helped Hermione out then Harry before turning around and helping Ginny out. The valet closed the carriage door before leading the thestrals away with a quirt that suddenly materialized out of his hand. Hermione opened her mouth to say something before Harry shook his head slightly. It wouldn’t do them good to suddenly stop the valet from whipping any animal, no matter how much they wanted to.

“Blimey,” Ron looked at the manor in awe and Harry turned to take in the sight. Little stone steps lead up to the entrance and the pillars that adorned the front entrance were positively massive.

“This way please,” another valet suddenly spoke up and Harry cleared his throat roughly as he realized that they all had been staring instead of moving forward.

He took Ginny’s arm and started forward, Neville falling into step a bit behind them followed by Ron and Hermione. Together the five of them ascended the small steps and entered the impressive stone-worked manor. If this was truly the Malfoy’s home, then it was most certain different than what Harry had seen in the brief moments of his captivity only a few months ago.

At the door, several footsmen lined up, taking guests hats and gloves and any cloaks they deemed to wear before putting them to the side and Harry reluctantly parted with his gloves as did Ron and Neville. The girls however, shook their heads and the footsmen gestured for them to continue.

There was a small queue forming and they joined it, wondering what was going on. Harry had seen some of the old Muggle movies that his Aunt Petunia loved to watch whenever Uncle Vernon and Dudley were out of the house, of such events, but the old movies did no justice to the real deal he realized. Everything was so formal to the point where Harry felt a bit nervous, as if he was going to misstep and make a mistake.

“It’s okay, calm down,” he heard Hermione whisper behind him and realized if he was nervous, Ron must be completely sweating with fear. The opulence and money the place screamed out must have been getting to him. He glanced at Ginny and saw a small tremor of nervousness on the bottom of her chin, but she looked at him and gave him a brief hesitant smile.

As they moved further up the queue, he noticed a brief flash of bright color, either a red, yellow, blue, or green by the entrance to what was probably the main hall of the Ball and realized that it was something to identify if the person was able to enter into the Ball by proving their descent from a Hogwarts founder. Red was probably for Gryffindor, yellow Hufflepuff, blue Ravenclaw, and green Slytherin. He could hear someone shouting out the name of the guest as they stepped through the threshold and wondered how they were going to get through.

“Sir Bill Weasley of Hufflepuff-Gryffindor and his guest, Miss Fleur Delacour!” the butler, had to be a butler, Harry could see the man standing just beyond the threshold dressed in a stereotypical butler suit.

Harry saw the entrance flash a mix of yellow and red before a neutral grey flashed through as it seemed that the barrier allowed Fleur to pass through unharmed.

“Sir James Potter of Gryffindor and wife Ms. Lily Potter,” he heard his parents name and strained his neck to see the barrier flash a bright red one before grey for his mother. Besides being descended from Ignotus Perevell, he was also descended from Godric Gryffindor…interesting.

“I knew my family was considered pureblood, but didn’t know from which house. Makes sense,” Ron whispered behind him.

“Gran says we’re probably Hufflepuff,” Neville spoke up quietly.

“You know about this?” Harry asked.

“Not about the Ball, but Gran reckons we have Hufflepuff blood in us. Dad was a Hufflepuff, Mum was Gryffindor…”

“Sir Edward Potter of Gryffindor!” the butler called out and Harry knew that his brother had wanted to enter alone, independent of his parents.

As they slowly moved forward, Harry wondered if Sirius and the others had entered before him, and looked back to see the line continuing behind him and caught Sirius’ quick smile before him waving for him to turn back around. Harry realized that a few more people had entered and it was now him and the others standing by the barrier. The look the butler wore on his face told him that he had been waiting for them and wasn’t used to waiting for guests.

He felt Merlin’s subtle presence beginning to fill him and a quick look at the others saw that their features were slowly changing to mesh their looks. He pulled out his invitation and handed it to the butler.

“We’ve received this from the Minister of Magic, Lucius Malfoy. Merlin, Lady Selwyn of the High Elves, Lord Nathan Hufflepuff, Lord Godric Gryffindor II, and Lady Rowena Ravenclaw graces this Ball with their presence,” he heard Merlin alter his words to be more formal and was glad for the support.

The effect was immediate as the butler’s grip on the envelope tightened and his eyes grew wide. His eyebrows shot into what was left of his receding hairline before he nodded, head bobbing like an ostrich.

“W-We’ve b-been expecting you…milord,” the butler sounded terrified.

“I am no Lord, no holder of lands. Do not address me as such,” Harry heard the weariness in Merlin’s voice at having to explain to countless others that he was just a man born to a simple peasant woman.

“A-As you wish sir,” the butler nodded before gesturing for them to pass, “you may pass unharmed.”

“Thank you,” Harry replied and stepped forward.

The stairs leading down to the main hall of the Ball were massive and he realized something he could do to make others see them as a united front. “Nathan, Godric, Rowena, join us,” he gestured for his friends to line up next to them as they started down the stairs.

“Presenting our guests of honor, Sir Merlin, Lady Selwyn of the High Elves, Lord Nathan Hufflepuff, Lord Godric Gryffindor II, and Lady Rowena Ravenclaw,” the butler announced in a strong voice and Harry watched as the hall suddenly fell silent at the announcement.

All eyes were rooted upon them as they descended the stairs and Harry could see more than one Death Eater face amongst the guests. He spotted his parents standing by a fountain and saw a smile flit across their faces at the sight of the five of them walking down like equals. Near them he caught the wide-eyed look of Draco Malfoy who had obviously been dancing with Iris, but had stopped at the announcement.

Beyond them and scattered amongst the guests he saw Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Bill and Fleur, Marius Sadow and his Auror companion, Marion with Crouch Jr. He vaguely recognized more than one Ministry official, but couldn’t quite put his name on their faces.

As they reached the final step, murmurs of conversation started back up as guests continued to mingle with others, creating small talk or just got out onto the dance floor as a waltz was picked up. Suddenly Harry stiffened as he saw Lucius Malfoy, his wife Narcissa on his arm, gliding towards them, an oily smile on the man’s face.

“Ah, my dear Merlin, so glad you could arrive at such a timely fashion,” Lucius sounded as silky as ever and Harry was immediately on his guard. “May I introduce my wife, Narcissa.”

Harry hesitated for a split second on shaking the matriarch of the Malfoy family’s hand before he felt Merlin take over slightly and took the hand and made him kiss it. Releasing it, he glared inwardly at the Dreamer who just chided him.

“A pleasure,” the woman’s voice was breathy and soft, definitely a different tone than he was used to hearing from her.

“Lady Selwyn,” Lucius acknowledged Ginny who bowed her head slightly, but when Lucius made a move to kiss her hand she tightened her arm around Harry’s, stopping the Minister mid-movement.

“I apologize Minister,” Ginny’s voice was overlapped with Selwyn, making her sound cool and imperious, “it is custom to be friends first before one’s hand can be offered in peace.”

There was an almost imperceptible coloring in Malfoy’s cheeks before he nodded stiffly and nodded to Neville. “Lord Hufflepuff, welcome. And to you too Lord Gryffindor.”

Harry watched Ron nod jerkily before Lucius pinned his gaze on Hermione. Harry knew some seriously horrible thoughts had to be going through his friend’s mind, especially considering the torture she had suffered at the hands of the Malfoys and Bellatrix when they had been captured by the Snatchers. “And Lady Ravenclaw, it is an honor.”

“Minister,” Hermione’s inflection of his title gave no hint to her feelings, but this was the first time Harry could hear the deep tones of Rowena. He realized that Hermione could not even speak and the Dreamer inside of her, Rowena Ravenclaw, had to answer.

“Well,” if the elder Malfoy was disturbed by the slightly chilly reception he had just received from the great Merlin and his Knights, he was not bothered by it outwardly, “please enjoy yourselves. I’m sure the guests would love hearing all of your stories and you would love to learn more about this world.”

With that and the swish of Lucius’ dress cloak; he and his wife disappeared into the crowd, leaving them standing there.

“Drink,” Hermione whispered hoarsely and Harry glanced at Ron who nodded before ushering her towards the drinks table.

“I’m going to find my Mum,” Neville muttered before disappearing into the crowd.

“Well,” Ginny commented next to him as the headed off to the side to let the other guests coming down the stairs pass by, “that went well.”

“Too well,” Harry muttered darkly, “Malfoy’s up to something.”

“He’s always up to something, come on, join me in a dance?” Ginny asked pulling him towards the floor where the others were swirling around in what looked liked a slightly complicated waltz.

“But…I don’t know how to dance,” Harry tried to stop Ginny from steering him towards the dance floor, “you know how I was during the Yule Ball!”

“I taught Nathan, I can teach you!” was all she said with a light laugh before he suddenly was shoved straight on the floor and Ginny quickly grabbed his hand and placed it in the appropriate place on her waist before taking his other hand holding it high with her own.

She stepped backwards and pulled him along, making him stumble and step forward lest smash into the floor or worst, on top of her before she jerkily moved him around. “Come on Merlin,” she smiled encouragingly at him and he bit his lip, looking around for any relief, but instead, saw Sirius’ holding part of his mouth, muffling a smile.

That was not helpful.

He could see the others guests with mild expressions ranging from surprise, to mirth, to even odd looks directed at him before he finally grimaced and straightened. He hated being humiliated… “Fine,” he growled out before glancing down at his feet and back up to Ginny. “Teach me.”

She grinned at him before taking him through the steps again. They were slow and stepped off the pace of the flowing waltz of the other dancers around them so he can learn the steps and slowly but surely Harry found himself figuring out how the beats went. After a few minutes, he felt himself stumble back into the whirling dancers as Ginny grinned.

“Ready?” she whispered as the orchestra struck up the refrain of the melody once more and Harry breathed out a quick breath.

“No,” he replied but didn’t have a chance to say anymore as the waltz started once more and he whirled around with the other dancers. It was most certainly not perfect, nor pretty, and especially with Harry repeating the count and steps over and over in his head, but as the waltz slowed down and finished, he figured he hadn’t done so bad after all. And with Ginny beaming radiantly in her ball gown at him, it couldn’t be that bad, could it?

“And now, you lead me off for a drink,” she whispered.

“Pardon?” Harry was confused but Ginny grabbed him by the elbow and steered him off of the dance floor.

“Unless you want those gaggle of women to ask you to dance with them,” she gestured behind her with a twitch of her head and Harry glanced over her head to see indeed a bunch of older women, Narcissa amongst them, staring at him with hungry eyes, hoping that he would dance with them.

“Ah, got it,” he hurried off, headed to the drinks table and grabbed two glasses of what smelled like a cross between firewhiskey and pumpkin juice. There were hardly any chairs, mostly a few lounge chairs, but many of the guests who weren’t dancing were standing around, talking with one another, some holding drinks while others ate off of small plates of hors d’oeuvres.

He spotted Neville, now cautiously dancing with Iris on the floor, the young girl enjoying herself immensely. Beyond them, he saw Draco smiling congenially at watching his girlfriend dance, but he could see a slight strain on the young man’s smile. If Dumbledore wanted them to find out information, that was where he would start.

“Selwyn, do you mind if I leave you alone for a bit?” he could hear Merlin change Ginny’s name and realized that he was near several people.

“Draco?” she too had noticed his gaze.

“Couldn’t hurt,” he shrugged.

“Be careful, he’s different than what you or I remember,” she whispered cautiously before heading towards a small knot of people that included Marion Sadow amongst them, Crouch Jr. nowhere in sight.

Harry knew Ginny would be safe within the presence of the raven-haired Auror, and stared his meandering path towards Draco. He reached him in due time, having nodded greetings to the other guests who were in awe at his presence.

“Oh…hello Merlin, what can I do for you?” Draco definitely sounded different than the Draco he knew from his world; almost pleasant, a surprising thing.

“Heard you graduated Hogwarts,” it was the most inane and the first thing that popped into Harry’s head.

“Yeah, finally done with that school good riddance,” now that was the Draco he remembered, arrogant and definitely with a dislike of Hogwarts.

He felt Merlin raise an eyebrow and Draco shook his head. “Nothing against Dumbledore, but my father’s the true Minister. He just wants to try to keep his iron fist on the government that lawfully elected my father.”

“Really,” Harry wondered how many people had either been Imperiused or coerced into voting for Lucius Malfoy. “Sounds like you would rather have Voldemort oppress everyone, including Half-bloods and especially Muggle-borns.”

“Muggle-borns definitely,” Draco snorted derisively, “that stupid Mudblood bitch Granger thinks she’s so smart-“

“Iris Potter’s mother is Muggle-born,” Harry cut in quietly, surprised that he was able to keep so calm with Draco hurling insults at Hermione as usual. He figured it was probably Merlin helping him to keep his calm.

“Yeah well,” the blond-haired Slytherin looked away, a grimace on his face, “she’s different.”

“Is she now? In my battles, I had allies from the mere peasant to Kings of old. Even now, Muggle King Arthur wields the hope for all of his forces under him to defeat Morgana Le Faye,” Harry plucked the offering Merlin dangled in front of him to make his case to the Slytherin.

“Sorry to break it to you, but Morgana was defeated. In the books afterwards, you beat her, then defeated Nimue Lady of the Lake,” Draco countered, “so it doesn’t really matter that this Muggle King of yours was great or not.”

Harry’s eyebrow twitched in anger, “If you think like that, then perhaps I should whisper in Professor Potter’s ear that you don’t think much of her or her parents. That you would rather see them dead-“

“I didn’t say that!” Draco hissed in anger. “Stop putting words in my mouth! You’re think you’re all that great because you’re Merlin? You’re too blinded by some wizard’s words of the Dark Lord fighting against the forces of good! Well, here’s a news flash, maybe you’re on the wrong side!”

“What makes you say that?” Harry narrowed his eyes dangerously. No matter what Draco said, he was sure that there was no one eviler than Grindelwald or Voldemort alive. Not after what he had just been through.

“I’ve seen how you and your Knights have been hanging onto that old man’s words. How you’ve been talking to the Aurors around the castle. They’re telling you lies,” Draco looked away, taking a big gulp from the wine glass he was holding.

Harry however, tightened his grip on his glass, trying to contain his anger at the slander that this alternate counterpart was throwing around. Apparently even dating Iris Potter still had not changed Draco Malfoy much in this world.

“Perhaps, you should respect your elders and learn to open your eyes. Maybe Voldemort and Grindelwald are evil, sending Hellhounds and Faydes to attack the school. Do you not even feel a single drop of remorse for the young housemate that was killed the other day?”

That immediately shut Draco up and he looked away, swallowing hard. Harry knew he had won that argument by pointing out the attack and was glad to see that while it seemed that the Slytherin had the basic personality of his original, there were slight, subtle differences. The Draco he knew would have spluttered something about how the Dark Lord was serving justice to the Muggle-borns and such. Perhaps this one was just a bit more concerned about the welfare of others instead of being a self-centered little prick who would switch sides at the drop of a hat.

However, he didn’t hold out for much hope, especially since it seemed that all of his friends or at least those his age or younger seemed pretty much the same, with some minor differences.

“I’ll leave you be for now, Mr. Malfoy,” he heard Merlin overlap his words, a cool tone in them. “And please, think of what we’ve just discussed.” Harry turned and slipped back into the crowd, intent on heading to where he had last left Ginny. He needed some better company after facing and questioning Malfoy.

However, he only got half way across the room when there was a tapping sound at the top of the stairs and he looked towards the top to see a cloaked and hooded figure standing there.

“May I present the special envoy to his Dark Lord Grindelwald, the Black Queen!” the butler announced.

The effect was instantaneous as every conversation silenced and every eye turned towards the top of the stairs where a hooded figure stood, staring down at everyone. With a chilling realization, Harry knew that someone this high up on the list of Grindelwald’s so called Chess Pieces had never attended the Founders’ Ball.

He saw the hooded figure smile darkly, a flash of white teeth before pulling his hood off and Harry’s eyes widened in astonishment. The glass that was in his hand dropped to the floor, unnoticed as he felt like someone had walked over his grave.

Those emerald green eyes…

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen. On behalf of the Dark Lord Grindelwald I, the Black Queen, bid you greetings,” the Black Queen’s voice was smooth, smoother than he could ever imagine.

“You may call me Harry James Potter.”


	15. The Black Queen

“ _Good evening ladies and gentlemen. On behalf of the Dark Lord Grindelwald I, the Black Queen, bid you greetings,” the Black Queen’s voice was smooth, smoother than he could ever imagine._

“ _You may call me Harry James Potter.”_

* * *

The silence was deafening as everyone from the most basic of footsman to even the orchestra conductor had froze at the mention of the name and title. The Black Queen descended down the ivory steps, his polished shoes tapping lightly on each marble step. The crowd slowly backed away, giving him a lot of berth and room to move around. There were some audible gulps of fear from the Death Eaters in the crowd of Ball-attendees as they all stared at the young man who claimed to be the Black Queen and Harry James Potter. Once thought dead by the whole of the Wizarding World.

Harry, like many in the room, stood frozen, mesmerized by the _presence_ the Black Queen exuded. A million thoughts raced across his mind as he considered the possibilities that this was not Harry Potter in this world that it was some doppelganger, someone who was a metamorphmagus, a Death Eater disguised as Harry Potter, someone with Polyjuice Potion taken from the hairs of the baby Harry Potter. But each one of his thoughts seemed more and more far-fetched as he stared at the face, the same face as his own. He recognized his own facial structure, the messy black hair; the emerald green eyes and even the round-shaped glasses perched on his nose.

The Black Queen’s hair fell across his forehead, obscuring the last place Harry tried to see if a lightning bolt shaped scar rested, a gift from Voldemort to mark him as his Horcrux, but he couldn’t see. All the while, with each step, he felt like someone had trodden over his grave a thousand times. It was a highly unpleasant feeling…

When the Black Queen had stopped at the bottom of the stairs, he smiled congenially at them before a mild expression crossed his face as Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy stepped forward from the silent crowd. There was a hesitant, almost pasted-on like smile on the elder Malfoy’s face, as if he dared to be civil to a guest.

“Amusing statement,” Lucius started, a small frown broke the smile on his face, “but the world knows that young Mr. Potter died almost seventeen years ago.”

The some in the crowd twittered in nervous laughter behind him and the elder Malfoy glanced back at them, his pasted-fake smile growing just a bit wider, but there was definite hesitation in them before he turned back around and Harry could see the smile die just as quickly on his face.

The Black Queen wore an even more sinister smile on his face as he approached the man and his wife who shrank back, clutching at her husband’s arm in an effort to shield herself. The nervous laughter in the crowd died almost instantaneously as the Black Queen moved towards the Malfoys.

They were rooted to the spot as he seemingly loomed over them, his sinister smile growing wider by the second. Harry could feel a tickling feeling flowing through him, a tingling tickling warning that made him uneasy. He felt the Dreamer within him tremble in nervousness and a pit of fear began to form inside of him. What made Merlin so nervous? So afraid? What was the tickling-tingling feeling that he felt? He stared at the Black Queen, his doppelganger, and the one who claimed to be the long dead Harry James Potter in this world.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, dear Lucius,” Harry’s smooth voice sounded so unlike his own. It held power, confidence, and arrogance, everything that sounded so opposite and alien to Harry. He knew he himself had confidence and occasional arrogance when he spoke, but this was a different sort, a more dangerous sort.

This Harry used the innate fear that surrounded the Ball guests and around the Malfoys and embraced it. He used it to amplify the sinister quality of his demeanor, appearance, and voice.

“You, wielder of Corruptions, would love to tell me that this is all a hoax? That I am not really who I say I am?” the Black Queen’s tone was hushed, but in the silence of the room, everyone heard every single word. “You may ask your butler there, what I had passed as…descendant of Gryffindor if you’re so curious.”

“I-I…”

“Or would you like me to tell the Dark Lord of your lack of hospitality to his chief assassin-“

“T-The Black Queen was never revealed-“

“Ah yes…we all know that, don’t we,” the Black Queen looked up at the surrounding crowd and graced them with an evil smile, “that how could I be the Black Queen at such a seemingly young age.” He turned back to Lucius and Harry saw his eyes flash a sclera black before lunging at Malfoy.

At first Harry thought that the Black Queen meant to kill the elder Malfoy, and everyone seemed to think the same, but all the young man did was pull Malfoy’s head close to his own and whisper something in the elder man’s ear. In the tense silence however, no one could hear the whispered words that lasted for at least a few minutes when just as suddenly, the Black Queen released Malfoy from his hold and the man dropped to the ground, as if someone had knocked the wind out of him.

“Sire…” Lucius Malfoy suddenly bowed his head low to the ground, pulling his wife down to the ground with him, her startled cry falling on deaf ears as she tried to rearrange her Ball gown before joining her husband on the ground. “Forgive me, please…”

The Black Queen just smiled sardonically before glancing around at the crowd. Harry noticed that a few around him froze before bowing to the ground, showing what had to be their Death Eater allegiances as they all followed Lucius’ example. They must have believed that the one claiming to be the Black Queen and Harry Potter was indeed the true Black Queen – Grindelwald’s chief assassin.

He looked to the back and his eyes widened in surprise as he saw Marion bowing to the ground, the raven-haired Auror standing next to Ginny. Crouch Jr. had somehow appeared next to her during the commotion and he too was bowing on the ground. She was a Death Eater?! However, as he noticed, everyone in the room, including Mr. Weasley and even Alice Longbottom, were slowly bowing their heads towards the Black Queen. Meanwhile, he was sweeping his gaze throughout the crowd and his emerald eyes met his own and Harry felt the sheer amount of _power_ in them. He realized that somehow, this Harry had used something to force everyone after the initial Death Eaters to bow before him – like a mass Imperius curse.

Harry suddenly felt a surge of power fill him, resisting the urge to bow before this Black Queen. He dimly realized that it was Merlin who was trying to help him and drew upon the Dreamer within him to support his legs and make him stand firm. Just as suddenly the gaze swept off of him and focused on another part of the room where he saw his parents, Iris, and Eddie all still standing upright, but their faces were in shock.

Sirius stood upright near them, horror and disgust written across his face and near him was Neville, eyes shining a golden yellow as his own Dreamer probably redoubled his efforts to try to not fall sway to the lure of bowing before this young man. With just about everyone’s heads and bodies bowed before the Black Queen, Harry could clearly see where his friends were amongst the crowd. Ron and Hermione stood near Neville while Ginny was by Marion’s side, her face set with a hint of imperious anger, her eyes flickering a bright white. Oddly, none of them moved.

“Ah, James and Lily Potter,” the Black Queen’s smooth voice cut through the crowd, his gaze pinned on his parents who stood resolute.

Harry noticed that James had placed a protective hand on Lily’s arm, pushing her slightly behind him. His father’s face was expressionless, though Harry read a hint of disbelief in his features. His mother’s face though, was white as a sheet and she looked like she was about to faint. He watched as the Black Queen slowly cut through the crowd towards them, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“My parents,” he spoke with an air of quiet contemplation, “I can’t say that it is good to see you again. Having abandoned me seventeen years ago…”

Harry tried to move towards them, but found himself rooted to the spot. He gritted his teeth and tried to force his leg muscles to work, to pull himself towards his parents. The need to protect them from this…this…monster was great. He couldn’t let them face this Black Queen, this assassin without any support!

“Would you all like to hear the curious tale of how Lord Voldemort, your Black King, saved me? How my parents,” he threw a ruthless glare at them, making James and Lily flinch, “left me for dead amongst the rubble of Godric’s Hollow?”

The bowing crowd stayed silent, though Harry had a feeling that everyone was hanging onto the Black Queen’s every word.

“How, my mother’s _love_ for me, failed?” Harry did not miss the sneer of the word love. “That the coward of a father that I had, abandoned my family?”

“H-He…didn’t…abandon them,” Sirius croaked out hoarsely from his rooted spot and Harry could see sweat pouring down his face, staining his white collar as he fought the impulse to bow to the Black Queen.

How his godfather was managing that effort was beyond Harry, but apparently it had also diverted the Black Queen’s attention to him and he saw a brief smile flit across his face.

“Ah, Sirius Black,” he started smoothly, “I’m quite surprised to see you still standing. After all, the only people I would have expected to be still standing are the opposing Dreamers, or at least those with the remnants. Of course, your friend here, my father, and my mother are barely holding on as we speak. But you, Sirius…you must know why you’re still standing.”

“T-Try me,” Sirius snorted defiantly.

“You know… _he_ did scream; begged for his life. He even told me to spare you the pain. To end it quick,” the Black Queen started conversationally as if nothing was wrong, “He told me that you had nothing to do with it…that it was all upon him.”

The silence from Sirius was palpable and Harry had no idea what the Black Queen was saying. But he recognized the stony yet furious gaze his godfather wore. The last time he had seen it was when Sirius and Remus had cornered Peter Pettigrew in the Shrieking Shack and wanted to kill him.

“He begged,” there was a slight sadistic laugh from the Black Queen, “like the dirty dog that he was. Though I suppose it should have been you begging at my feet…seeing as you are named after the Dog Star. Pitiful for such a Chess Piece.”

“Did you know what I did? I killed him…slowly.”

“You’re not…Harry James…Potter,” Sirius trembled as he placed a shaking arm on a column next to where he was standing, trying to keep himself upright. “No…s-son,” his godfather suddenly started to choke slightly and fell to one knee, all the while glaring up at the Black Queen, “of James or Lily could…b-be so…evil.”

“You may think you’re right, but alas, you are terribly wrong,” the Black Queen suddenly turned slightly and Harry found himself under the full sinister gaze of his doppelganger and gritted his teeth as he felt the power flowing from him. He could feel Merlin redoubling his efforts under the heated gaze and found himself clenching his fists and teeth in an effort to keep himself up right. “Ask him…he knows it is the truth. Ask Merlin…”

Harry realized that whatever effort the Dreamer within him had in altering his appearance towards everyone had failed in front of the Black Queen. He could clearly see them for who they were and his chilling words sent another jolt of shock through him. He knew who they were and that they were not a part of this world. That brief momentary jolt of shock tore through the Dreamer within and he felt his knees buckling under the strain before Merlin barely kept him upright. He felt himself sweating from the effort and through his bleary eyes, could see that all of his friends were also trying to redouble their efforts, having realized the same thing.

If the Black Queen knew who they really were…?

As the Black Queen turned away from him and back to his parents, Harry caught the glint of something on the man’s forehead, but at his vantage point, couldn’t tell if it was a lightning bolt shaped scar or not. However, a well of uneasiness filled him, mingled with the fear he felt.

“Ah, you two must be my younger brother and sister,” the bright cheeriness in the Black Queen’s voice made Harry ground his teeth to try to move once more. He could not let this continue anymore…this sickening farce.

“Tell me, what are your names?” the Black Queen knelt down in front of where Iris and Eddie had succumbed to bowing next to their parents. He could see his father try to stop him from approaching his daughter and son, but was not able to move.

“I-Iris…Iris Lily Potter,” Iris spoke up quietly from where she knelt on the ground. Draco who had apparently gone to find her after their brief conversation was bowed low to the ground and could not move.

“Eddie, Edward Alistair Potter,” surprisingly Eddie’s voice was strong even though he was bowed on the ground.

“A good strong name,” the Black Queen said before addressing Iris again, “young lady…do you know who I am?”

“M-My b-brother?”

“Yes,” he smiled and extended a hand out, “your long lost and forgotten brother. Aren’t you glad to see me?”

Iris was thankfully silent, but Harry could see her shaking like a leaf against strong winds before she mumbled something that Harry could not hear even in the deafening silence.

“G-Get…away from her,” James managed to croak out, frozen in place bringing the Black Queen’s gaze up at him before he shook his head.

“I think not, _father_ ,” he sneered before gesturing with a hand to Iris, “I think as my sister, this young lady should have the honors of a dance with me.”

That was the last straw as Harry felt something inside of him snap. There was no way even if this doppelganger of his was really Harry Potter, would ever dance with Iris. Not while he was still standing and had anything to say about it. He would never let this young man corrupt someone as young as Iris. Would never let him harm his family in this world. Would never-

Harry felt a pulse of power surge through him, driving away the stiffness and the impulse to bow. It drove away the fear and the uneasiness inside of him, filling him with the hope that he was going to stop this appalling and disgusting display of blatant power. The Black Queen may be Grindelwald’s personal assassin, but he had no right to manipulate people as he pleased. Not even Death Eaters or anyone else in this room. He felt the Dreamer Merlin join in his efforts and found himself marching across the room in a blindingly fast speed before cutting across where the Black Queen’s hand nearly met Iris’ forcibly given one.

“Leave her alone,” this close to the Black Queen there was no doubt that Harry saw his own face reflected back at him. Complete with a lighting bolt shaped scar on his forehead. The Black Queen really was Harry James Potter…

However, he pushed that thought viciously aside and focused on the task at hand. Stopping this madness. The air hummed with the crackle of power between the two of them, but he did not seem to notice it, too focused at the task at hand.

“Leave them _all_ alone,” he growled out and just as suddenly the spell was broken.

Murmurs started up again as almost everyone picked themselves up from the floor, but everyone was now staring at him and the Black Queen.

The Black Queen laughed, the same boisterous laugh he heard from himself countless times when there were things to laugh about. This close, it was very unnerving to see and hear the similarities between themselves. “All in good fun,” he replied quietly, “you really shouldn’t be so serious.”

Harry did not smile and compressed his lips flatly as out of the corner of his eyes he saw his friends approach him, all of them ready to face the Black Queen. “What does Grindelwald and Voldemort want by sending his chief assassin?”

“The Dark Lord wanted to make sure that the Founders’ Ball was represented fairly by the opposing side of this war. After all, inviting you, dear Merlin, and your Knights is hardly balancing the scales,” the Black Queen beamed a pleasant smile, but Harry knew that it was anything but under the façade.

“Then you may want to talk to Minister Malfoy over there about maintaining the neutrality of the Ball. He was the one who invited us,” Harry replied darkly. He could feel the Dreamer Merlin inside of him barely containing his anger while helping him with his words. Even though it seemed like he could see through their disguises, Merlin still had the pretense of maintaining it for anyone else listening to their conversation. And so far it seemed like the Black Queen hadn’t tipped his hand – which worried Harry a little bit. Just what was his counterpart playing at?

“I know,” was the reply before quickly glancing over to the crowd who shrank back slightly, “I plan to ask him a few questions. However, I believe that now is the time for pleasantries…” The Black Queen suddenly bowed his head slightly, “I do believe we were not properly introduced. I am Harry James Potter, Black Queen within the Dark Lord’s ranks.”

“Merlin,” Harry replied flatly, not even bowing his head. He would not deign his counterpart the courtesy of any formalities after the stunt he pulled. He made a move to brush past the Black Queen, to leave the Ball, having felt sickened at the man’s presence and his acts when his words stopped him.

“Leaving so soon? Not even going to try to hex me or anything, Merlin?” the Black Queen spoke his name laconically.

Harry realized that his right hand had unconsciously been hovering near where his wand was stored, a defensive instinct that happened when he probably broke through the Black Queen’s powers. He turned his head slightly, “As you had said before, neutrality must be maintained. However, the quality of this Ball has just gone down the drain.” With that parting shot, he headed out of the room, the crowd parting to let him through. Behind him, he heard the multiple footsteps of others following him and knew that it was his friends and probably the others leaving as soon as they could.

It was only later that Harry would realize that the Black Queen exuded a murderous intent and everyone of the Order of the Ministry and those that valued their lives would follow him out.

However, once he got outside, he stopped and turned to face his friends who all looked like they had ran a marathon same as he did. Beyond them he saw his parents and siblings, along with Sirius, Marion, Marius, Crouch Jr., and even the Weasleys along with Alice Longbottom hurrying down the stairs, headed to the thestral-pulled carriages. There was no need anymore, no pretense for staying at the Ball, the air of neutrality broken when the Black Queen had arrived.

“Harry, that-“ Hermione started to whisper but he shook his head, cutting her off.

“Not here, not now…I know,” he cautioned them as he watched his father and mother helping his brother and sister into the carriage. To his puzzlement and surprise, he saw Eddie glance back at the Manor, a curious longing in his eyes, but was immediately hurried on with a pointed look from Lily.

“What are we waiting for?” Ron asked as he half-climbed into the carriage, holding out a hand to help Hermione up.

“The rest of the Order to escape,” Neville answered, Nathan’s voice overlapping with his own.

“Escape?”

Harry felt a murmur from Merlin and glanced at Ron, a grimace on his face. “Merlin says that he thinks that was Grindewald’s way of declaring war on us and on Dumbledore’s Ministry once again. I think I agree with him.”

But the more disturbing thought to Harry was that Dumbledore had lied…

* * *

The five of them were the last ones to arrive back at Hogwarts and already Harry could see a crowd of Aurors trying to peer through the doors to the front hall. He had a feeling that Dumbledore was there and immediately got off the carriage, his friends following behind him.

They pushed their way up the steps and into the front hall, the Aurors who had been crowding the door, trying to see what was going on giving them some berth to pass through as they recognized them in all of the glitz and glamour they had put on for the Founders’ Ball. It was still early at night, having left the ball as soon as the Black Queen had essentially declared war on a former zone of neutrality.

As soon as the last line of Aurors parted, Harry and his friends were greeted with the scene of a very distraught Lily Potter, clutching onto Severus Snape’s robe hems, his arms half supporting her as she knelt on the ground. Tears streaked her once lovely make-up on her face, but she made no sound save for the barest of occasional sniffles. Remus had taken charge of Iris and Eddie, holding them at the edges of the crowd, the two teenagers wide-eyed, but mostly silent.

However, James Potter’s eyes were burning with fury as he strolled a fast pace between where Dumbledore stood by the edge of the stairs, an eerily calm expression on his face. Near him was Sirius, surprisingly silent, but Harry could see the pinched expression of fury on his godfather’s face. Everyone was still dressed in the fineries and Harry had a feeling that James had immediately called for Dumbledore to explain himself, not even bothering to change out of his clothes yet.

Around them were a circle of Aurors and Hogwarts teachers, some probably on patrols, others brought around by curiosity.

“Headmaster,” he greeted neutrally, trying to suppress the disappointing resentment he felt at Dumbledore for lying to them about Harry Potter’s existence in this world.

His arrival seemed to deflate James’ anger as he saw the worn, defeated look appear back on his father’s face, his pacing stopped as he shook his head, standing in the middle of the two, looking utterly lost.

“Is it true?” Dumbledore looked at them and Harry saw that no twinkle shone in the man’s blue eyes.

“Yes,” Harry replied. He heard Hermione stifle a gasp at his confirmation and felt Ginny stiffen beside him.

“And how do you know that?” Sirius cut through everyone, making a few heads swivel towards him in surprise. Harry too looked at his godfather in surprise, having never heard such a ruder tone than the one he was using. Granted, he was upset and the Black Queen spoke of someone being tortured whom Sirius was close to, but to have that hostility directed at him – it made Harry distressed.

“ _He_ ,” Sirius spat the pronoun, “said that you would know. That only you would know. Well?!”

Harry looked at his godfather, seeing the anger and fury directed at him; but most of all, the malevolent hate-filled look that spoke volumes. It said that he needed to blame someone for all of this, and would blame him even if he had nothing to do with it. “I…” he trailed off – how could he explain that it was himself that he saw, that it was his counterpart in this world and he just knew that no matter what, Harry Potter was not dead as long spoken and written in the pages of history of this world. That Harry Potter was alive, twisted, corrupted by Grindelwald and Voldemort into doing their biddings. That this world’s Harry Potter was a Horcrux, marked by the same lightning bolt scar that had haunted him for seventeen years of his life.

“You bear the same scar he does. Does that mean the two of you are in league with each other? You know him because you’ve planned this?!”

“Sirius-“

“HE KILLED MY BROTHER!!” Sirius cut James off, and for the first time Harry saw his father shrink back from Sirius’ fury, but nothing could prepare him for what his godfather just said.

The image of the headline [ **Black Queen Takes Black Queen** ] flashed through his mind as he realized what his counterpart meant by Chess Piece. Regulus Black was the previous Black Queen and if he was sure, was probably a double agent within the Death Eater’s ranks. The article had stated that the Black Queen had betrayed the Dark Lord and Black King and was put to death by his successor…which meant his counterpart, at the tender age of eight had killed Regulus Black in order to become the current Black Queen.

“If you have anything to do with it, so help you Merlin I will-“

By now Sirius had a crazed gleam in his eye and had advanced forward. Harry had put his arm out to stop his friends from trying to protect him. Even though he felt every word against him from his godfather was like a knife to the heart, he knew that only he could assuage the grief-stricken fury Sirius felt after finding out who really murdered his brother.

“Sirius,” Harry ignored Merlin’s attempts to try to placate him, wanting to deal with his godfather all on his own, “Sirius, look at me. We may have the same scar, but he is not me. We were both cursed, but we are different. I spent seventeen years of my life trying to find the one who gave me this and who killed-“

He stopped himself before he could say that his parents were killed. He fell silent for a second before shaking his head slowly, “I know how it feels, Sirius, to loose someone that you loved. I know what’s it like to lose friends, family, everyone.” This world’s Sirius apparently had a closer relationship to his brother than in his own world.

“You haven’t lost anyone yet! You’re still fighting the war against Morgana Le Faye! You haven’t even lost anyone yet!”

“I lost my parents!” Harry replied heatedly, “I was too young to save them! I lost the one person I considered family because I was too stupid to realize the deception!”

He abruptly stopped himself, knowing that he couldn’t get angry at Sirius in this world, not when he was still alive. More than ever he wished he could shed the identity of Merlin and tell them who he really was. That he wanted to tell them he loved them and missed them one last time. But after seeing the Black Queen, it was impossible now, to truly reveal who he was and for them to trust him ever again.

“Why…why should I believe you?” Sirius had stopped his advancement, but he looked like he was about to breakdown. Harry realized that his godfather needed something, anything to validate the pieces of his life that were so suddenly shattered by the Black Queen’s painful revelation.

Harry didn’t know what Sirius had done in between his brother’s death and through now, but he could hazard a guess was that his godfather had tried to find who the Black Queen was in order to take his revenge. But could not do anything with such a magical onslaught, a seemingly impregnable barrier of fear and command that this world’s Harry had wielded.

Harry frowned as he thought back to the events that just transpired. How come he was the only one who was able to break the spell held over everyone? How was he able to…?

“ _Eerily calm sapphire eyes met emerald ones. “It is because as the Dreamer of Hopes, you are the leader of the Virtues. You are the littlest Dreamer in The Tale of Beetle the Bard.”_

“He’s the Dreamer of Fears,” Harry whispered, the realization belting him across the head. It all made sense now, the deep pit of fear he had felt when the Black Queen activated his powers to amplify the fear everyone felt when he announced his title and name. The shock was transformed into fear and using that, he had subdued his fellow Dreamers that were there. Only those that were naturally opposed to the leader of the Seven Sins of Man, the Virtues, and those carrying the remnants were able to stand against him.

But Sirius barely held out against the Black Queen’s powers and Harry realized why. His godfather was not a Dreamer, but the shock and realization of finding his brother’s killer made his will resolute, able to withstand the initial onslaught of power that the Black Queen exuded. But when he had been confronted by him, his will had started to falter like everyone else. Even his father and mother, both former Dreamers, had started to falter under the Black Queen’s power.

“That’s impossible-“ Dumbledore said, making everyone stare at him, even Sirius, having seemingly snapped out of his angry fury and now had a drained look on his face.

“No, not in that way,” Ginny suddenly spoke up, swiveling everyone’s heads towards her, “he’s not fully the Dreamer of Fears, but rather an Heir. He’s not awakened to his powers yet, which means Grindelwald…”

“Should be vulnerable soon,” Mad-Eye rumbled from the edge of the circle of curious onlookers. More than a few heads nodded at his assessment.

“Is losing his powers, but has not lost them fully,” Ginny finished, “to say that he should be vulnerable soon may not be so wise, Auror Moody.”

“I’m more curious as to how Merlin knows,” Crouch Jr. spoke up, standing near Mad-Eye. Like many of the other Ball returnees, he had not changed out of his finer wear. Harry wondered where the man had gone off to in the time he had seen him next to Marion. He hoped at least Dumbledore had taken some measure to make sure the man wasn’t a threat to the Ministry or Hogwarts.

“Because he’s the Dreamer of Wis-“

“-of Hopes,” he finished for Hermione, turning his head to look at her and the others, a crooked smile twitching the corner of his lips, “I wanted to say something, but I wasn’t sure until now…” It was Hopes who was Fears’ direct contrast that enabled him to break through the spells; the only one of the Dreamers who had enough power to counter the leader of the Dreamer of Sins.

“Albus?” McGonagall’s voice was hushed and all eyes stared at Dumbledore who, after a few seconds of scrutinizing him, nodded.

“It is true,” the Headmaster said reluctantly, “I have lost my powers and it seems Merlin here has become the newest beacon of light for us.”

Harry didn’t like the implications of that statement and made his protest known, “Headmaster, I may be the Dreamer of Hopes, but I have not fully awakened to my powers. In fact, you may get them back when we return to our world.”

“Are you really that eager to go back and leave us hanging here? When the battlefield has just changed so abruptly? To leave us with no other Dreamers of Virtue save for Remus and let the others slaughter us so senselessly?” there was bitter resentment in Sirius’ voice and Harry opened his mouth to protest his words, but realized that he had nothing to say to that.

“I think,” Dumbledore spoke up quietly, “it is time for us to call upon the Weavers.”

“The who?” Ron voiced their collective confusion.

“The battlefield has changed and the collective knowledge of the Weavers, those that bind the rules of the Dreamers must be consulted,” the Headmaster said in a grave tone.

Harry wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the statement. The first thing he had learned about magic was that it could not be controlled. Harnessed and used, yes, but controlled?! Like what the Headmaster was saying? But as he looked at Dumbledore he realized that in the world they had fallen into, things were quite different and the Headmaster was not smiling.

Just what had they gotten themselves into?


	16. Confession

It was several hours later that Harry found himself back in the Room of Requirement, unable to sleep as he stared up at the ceiling that Neville had gotten to rotate slowly with stars of the Northern Hemisphere. His eyes had found Orion amongst the stars and slowly slid down a bit to the brightest star in the bunch, the Dog Star Sirius. The star his godfather was named after. He could not get the searing image of his godfather’s furious face, desperate plea for him to explain why had all of it happened, nor the revelation that Sirius’ brother, Regulus Black, was the previous Black Queen, out of his head.

Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he blinked and stared up at the fuzzy image of the stars, his glasses lying on the nightstand next to his bed. Dumbledore had said that it was time to convene the Weavers Council, apparently a ruling body of everything magical or fated in this world. He still had a hard time believing that anything could rule magic and even Hermione had scoffed heavily at the notion and idea before they had all turned in for the night.

He rubbed his eyes once more before deciding to get up. Throwing back the covers, he reached out and threw on a robe to cover his pajamas and slipped into his sneakers. Grabbing his glasses off of his nightstand, he put them on and secured his wand on the belt of his robe. Quietly, he headed out of the room and into the dark and dimly lit hallways of Hogwarts.

Dumbledore had cautioned that Aurors were always constantly patrolling the halls, and Harry didn’t feel inclined to bring the Marauder’s Map nor his invisibility cloak in case he was accidentally seen under the cloak. Too many questions would arise, especially if it was his father or any of his father’s friends he ran into. Besides, he was only going to take a short walk, to try to clear his mind enough to actually get some sleep.

However, he wasn’t too sure where he wanted to go. He did not actually have a favorite spot to think, with the exception of the Gryffindor common room and his own bedroom. The tree by the lake was out of the question since he did not want to walk _that_ far and it wasn’t feasible for him to be in the Gryffindor common room as he did not know the password nor did he want to scare any of the students who still lived within Hogwarts’ walls at this time.

 _When in doubt, pick a direction and walk_ , Merlin’s gentle yet sleepy suggestion flowed through his mind and he inwardly snorted a light laugh, but took the advice and headed down the stairs, letting his gaze take in everything about the school that was familiar yet so unfamiliar at the same time.

Even this late at night, the school felt enclosed, stifling, and afraid. In his world, he remembered Hogwarts as welcoming, grand, and filled with the hope and dreams of students and teachers alike. It was a beacon of light for the encroaching darkness that was Voldemort in the waning days of the war. This Hogwarts felt different, as if the fear of both Grindelwald and Voldemort was sucking the life out of the school. An inner fear that was borne from so much loss and suffering.

 _This is the world we live in_ , he could feel the inner Dreamer entity coming awake, _it is been this way for a long time, a world of fear_.

Harry didn’t answer the thought and instead nodded absently, his fingers tracing the stairs as he walked down the steps, neatly avoiding the particular spot where there was a fake step. He could imagine Peeves putting a dungbomb or something in there just to mess with the patrolling Aurors, though he suspected that they were probably too clever to fall for such a juvenile trick. Another thought occurred to him – he had not seen any ghosts, no Nearly Headless Nick or even The Grey Lady herself. That in of itself was highly puzzling…

Suddenly he paused, feeling a whisper of a warning from Merlin before reaching in his robe to draw out his wand. Squinting in the darkness, he wondered if someone had spotted him before a mote of light, hovering at the end of another wand appeared on a few stairs below the one he was walking on.

“It’s only me, Merlin,” Remus’ voice spoke up below him and Harry breathed a sigh of relief before pocketing his wand. He hurried down the stairs to join his former professor and saw that he was alone and holding what looked like the Marauder’s Map of this world.

Harry opened his mouth to ask if that was the Marauder’s Map before Remus hovering his light over the map for a few seconds before back up to their faces, lighting the two of them in an eerie glow. “Come on, we shouldn’t be seen here,” he gestured for Harry to follow him and they hurried down the rest of the stairs, passing a few Aurors who looked a bit startled, but relaxed once they saw who it was and nodded greetings to Remus and Harry.

His former professor led him to the Great Hall and closed the door behind him, tapping the map, muttering the words to make it disappear. “Your name appears on this map, if only faintly, not clearly like others. It's as if the magic used to create this map cannot decide whether or not you really exist here, so I had to make sure that it was you and not a Death Eater in disguise,” Remus answered his unspoken question with a small nod. “Couldn't sleep?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, but didn't really want to elaborate on what was bothering him. How could he explain to Remus that what bothered him was in regards to Sirius, to his counterpart here in this world, to just about everything that was wrong in this world? That each minute he stayed in this world, interacted with every single person made him want to stay and help this world get back on its feet. That he was also torn between the inevitable fight with Voldemort again and with Grindelwald?

Remus suddenly gestured for him to sit down at one of the house tables before tapping his wand on the table itself, making two drinks appear, a butterbeer and firewhiskey. “It's butterbeer,” his former professor said, gesturing to the frothy fizzy drink in front of him, “most of the students like it when they get the chance to go to Hogsmeade in their Third Year.”

Harry nodded, taking a small gulp of the drink before setting it down.

“Sirius, had it rough, growing up,” Remus suddenly started and Harry looked up at him, surprised before a knowing smile crossed his former professor's face, “you forget, I am the Dreamer of Temperance, I can usually figure out the conflicts within people and help them with it.”

Merlin offered a small thought of Salazar in front of Harry and he grasped it, instantly understanding the mysterious Dreamer power Merlin's friend had. It seemed that Salazar, before he was corrupted by Morgana Le Faye was a talented negotiator. “Ah, Sal was like that too,” he answered, feeling Merlin coloring his words slightly, “earned the sobriquet The Negotiator.”

Remus laughed lightly nodding all the while, “It is a title that the others have occasionally given to me also. I am honored to know that your friend has passed it down to his successors.” His expression turned serious, “The Black dynasty was one of the most prominent pure-blood lines in Wizarding history. They can directly trace their lineage back to Salazar Slytherin and shared direct bloodline with another family, the Gaunts.”

Harry nodded, familiar with the sad and twisted history of Marvolo Gaunt and his family. He knew that he still needed confirmation, but it seemed that with his counterpart being a Horcrux in this world, it wasn't too farfetched to think that Voldemort was Tom Riddle in this world and thus, his mother was Merope Gaunt.

“So naturally, Sirius was the eldest of the Blacks and was expected to be placed in Slytherin, but he defied his family's dark history and was placed in Gryffindor.”

“I imagine that went well,” Harry commented, the ugly memory of Mrs. Black's screaming portrait at Grimmauld Place still fresh in his mind.

“Most of the family promptly disowned him, but his younger brother, Regulus adored him and refused to abandon him. I know James and his father and mother took him in during the holidays that he could not go home to, but Sirius refused to let his younger brother go home to hear their mother's railings against him all the time so Regulus stayed with Sirius.”

“Was Regulus also Gryffindor?”

“No, he placed in Slytherin,” Remus shook his head, “but he was no more Slytherin than Sirius was. I think he asked the hat to place him in Slytherin so he could at least make sure Sirius occasionally had a home to go back to and for him to protect his older brother from the wrath of their mother and father.”

“That's...kind of him,” Harry wanted to say that it was different than the Regulus in his world, who had followed his parents wishes and had even joined up with the Death Eaters just to please them before realizing how much he was in over his head and bowed out at the last minute. However, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that Regulus Black, at the end of his life, had shown more Gryffindor traits than Slytherin ones, the bravery and audacity of stealing the Hufflepuff locket that was a Horcrux and keeping it for the day when someone would be able to destroy it.

Perhaps this world's Regulus showed more Gryffindor traits early on than in the last moments of his life. If so, it explained the close bond between brothers.

Remus smiled faintly as if remembering something, “Regulus wanted to be like his older brother, and even occasionally followed him around. I remember James used to call him a little puppy to Sirius' Snuffles.”

Harry laughed a little at the sudden image of Sirius' Grim-like form being followed by a smaller version of a wide-eyed puppy. He could feel the Dreamer within also chuckling at his mental image, contented before sobering slightly and he looked up at Remus, taking another sip of the butterbeer. “So what made Regulus want to follow Grindelwald and Voldemort?” he asked, “if Sirius is part of this Ministry...?”

“He wasn't always part of this Ministry,” Remus looked to his left, at nothing in particular, “we didn't know it back then, but Regulus had explicitly put forth a bold proposal and volunteered himself to be a double agent for Dumbledore's cause, much like Severus did too as well as several others.”

 _Peter Pettigrew_ , Harry thought darkly, the image of the mousy-man coming to the forefront of his mind. He tried to suppress the instant well of hatred for the man who had betrayed his parents, but it was so hard, even after all of these years.

“So it was our surprise when suddenly Sirius and Regulus had a huge fight one day and refused to speak to each other. A few weeks later, we learned that Regulus had joined the ranks of the Death Eaters and we thought he was lost to Grindelwald's forces then. A few years passed and then we heard rumors of a new so-called Chess piece called the Black Queen. Whoever the Piece was, they were murdering high prominent officials in the Ministry and also prominent Muggle officials, making everyone skittish.

“James wanted to hunt down the Black Queen, but then...” Remus' breath seemed to hitch a bit before he took a huge swig of his firewhiskey, “he and Lily lost their infant son in a horrific attack on Godric's Hollow...”

“October 31st, 1981...” Harry whispered, seemingly hearing the phantom screams of his own mother pleading with Voldemort to spare him. He knew that it was just in his mind, but it was as if Dementors had ripped it out of him, displaying it in all of its ugly glory.

“The headlines you read don't do it justice,” Remus commented softly, “we lost so much back then...and James... Well, he lost all hope after that. But Sirius, he changed a lot, wanted to do more front like offensive things, wanted to make sure that nothing like that happened again. He volunteered to be a spy for the Order, but by then his face was too well known, too public.”

“What happened then?” he found himself morbidly drawn to the story of a Sirius, free from Azkaban, fighting.

“There was an incident,” Remus cleared his throat, “well, not exactly an incident, more like a massacre, but it was called as such by the Ministry back then, and Dumbledore didn't want the public to panic. A couple of Aurors, Colin Thatcher and his wife had gone to the Veela conclave held then and were trying to negotiate an agreement with them to make sure they stayed out of the war.”

“They were going to Voldem-sorry, Grindelwald's side?”

“We didn't have any concrete proof at that time, but there were rumors. Dumbledore wanted to make sure that they weren't going to take sides, or if they were, they took our side,” his former professor explained, “part of that plan was to have Sirius pretend he was a Death Eater and thus push the Veela to our side and for Sirius to slowly infiltrate his way into the Death Eaters. It went badly and our plan backfired. Colin was lost and his wife was nearly sent to Azkaban for using the Unforgivables, including the Killing Curse on the Veela conclave.”

“What happened to Sirius?”

“The only good part in the plan was that he successfully got his entry into the Death Eaters,” Remus looked ashamed, shaking his head, “Lily and I questioned the necessity of the massacre of so many innocents, but Dumbledore was adamant. He said that with Sirius within their ranks, he would be able to do more damage than all the other spies we had within the Death Eaters could.”

“What about the others of the Order? I mean, didn't they have a say?” Harry could not believe that someone like Dumbledore, his old professor could condone such a thing. But a part of him doubted the validity of his own words, remembering the memories Snape had given him before he had died and even what Dumbledore had told him in the plane between the world of the living and the world of the dead just weeks ago.

“The Minister's word is final in this case Harry, we were, we are at war. There are sacrifices to be made if one needed to gain an advantage,” the werewolf sounded resigned and Harry bristled.

“No one should die. There's always a chance for redemption,” he remembered his own plea to Voldemort to at least show some compassion, some sign of regret before the two of them had launched their final attacks at each other. Voldemort's last act was to try to kill him while his own was aiming to disarm him.

Remus gave a sad chuckle before sipping a bit of his firewhiskey, “I missed those words, they sound just like Lily back then. So with Sirius in the ranks, we began to receive word of attacks on places before they happened. But little did we know that all of these attacks were orchestrated and just a little over ten years ago the culmination of those attacks was launched directly at the Ministry.”

“The Black Queen takes Black Queen?” Harry asked, remembering the eerie bold headline.

“Something like that,” the werewolf shrugged, “we found out that the Death Eaters allowed Sirius to join their ranks for the explicit use of feeding us false information – though some were real enough, but it seemed that it was Grindelwald and Voldemort's plan all along to lead us along. But we also discovered during the battle for the Ministry that the one who had been feeding us information in sporadic bursts was Sirius' younger brother, Regulus. He was the Black Queen and helped many of the Ministry officials who were loyal to Dumbledore escape.”

“But Grindelwald found out didn't he?”

“Yes,” Remus nodded, “turns out that Regulus' title as the Black Queen was just a placeholder for his true heir and after sending Hellhounds, he had the real Black Queen assassinate Regulus.”

“My brother knew it was a trap. I was too pigheaded to realize what he was doing when he sent me away to help the others escape as it was,” Sirius' soft voice spoke up from the door and both Harry and Remus turned sharply, Harry nearly spilling his butterbeer all over the table.

“Sirius-”

“Its fine, Moony,” Sirius stepped in, closing the door behind him, “the truth would have to come out soon enough. I'm just grateful that it came from you instead of from someone else like Snape or even others in the Ministry.”

Remus nodded, but still looked a bit ashamed that Sirius had happened upon their conversation.

“Sorry, it's my fault,” Harry felt like he had to say something, to apologize to his godfather for intruding upon his privacy. The Sirius he knew was moody and reclusive, wanting to see his father in himself, but had to content himself with the fact that it was Harry, not James, who needed him like a surrogate brother. He still remembered the stark, fast battle in the Ministry before Sirius had fallen into the Veil. He had all but ignored his godfather's slip of his father's name in the heat of the battle. But in hindsight, it had told him so much. His world's Sirius wanted to go back to the past, wanted to live in it where James Potter was still alive and everything was all right in the world. That the lines between good and evil had not been so deftly drawn, separating friends from one another.

“No, no,” Sirius took a seat next to Remus, before waving in the general direction a few seats down, “and James, it's not polite to eavesdrop under the invisibility cloak.”

Harry's eyes immediately shot towards the area Sirius was pointing towards and saw the air around the bench bend and twist before James' slightly rumpled form appeared, having taken off the invisibility cloak. He recognized Ignotus Perevell's Deathly Hallow, the same liquid-soft design of cloth as the one he had in his trunk at the moment up in the Room of Requirement.

“Damn you and your nose, Snuffles,” James said mock seriously before coming over to join them, “too bad Peter's not here. Dumbledore's got him out on an extended mission.”

Quelling the instant flash of rage that passed through him, Harry did not voice the fact that he was glad that Peter Pettigrew was not here. He still did not know if the man was a Death Eater or not, and he hoped whatever extended mission Dumbledore had him out on, it was related to the information he had provided to him to make sure that he was kept far away from Order related business.

“So then,” Sirius turned to him, pinning him with a sharp and steady gaze, “you now know my secret...and my reasoning.”

Harry immediately understood the implied meaning behind Sirius' words and felt Merlin's unease growing. However, he tried to reassure the Dreamer within that everything was going to be all right. Biting his lip, he nodded and looked at Remus, “I'm willing to guess that you did not tell me this just for my own benefit, right?”

“Partially, no,” Remus admitted, “it is the Dreamer of Temperance's ability to pick up even the most subtle of hints. I knew you were troubled since Sirius' outburst and from what the others had told Dumbledore and me, what had transpired in the Founders' Ball.”

“Yeah...”

“Yet when the Black Queen mentioned that you would know the truth, it was something that I knew I had to find out. I am sorry if you consider this a deception, _Merlin_ , but...”

Harry did not miss the emphasis of his persona's name nor the fact that all three of the ones who created the Marauder's Map were staring at him. He knew he had to give something in return for the information of the tragic history of Sirius Black in this world. But was he ready?

Merlin's uneasiness grew, but Harry pushed it aside and took a deep breath. He knew that with this step he took, he would be committing himself to this world and their war. But after hearing what he had heard, after learning what he knew...after everything that had happened in the short span of time he and his friends had been here. He knew that he could not leave this world the way it was. He knew that if he left, right now, he would try to find someway back, someway to make things right in this world.

“I ask for the utmost secrecy in what I am about to tell you. You would all become Secret Keepers if I even knew the spell,” he felt Merlin bolstering his words, amplifying them to sound as formal as he could. The Dreamer within nodded its assent to what he was about to do and accepted it, ready like he was, to fight for this world. He sent a wave of gratefulness to the Dreamer before feeling him back away, retreating as he could _feel_ the magic that subtly change his appearance melt away, leaving him as who he was, Harry Potter.

Drawing out his wand, he waved it around, “ _Muffliato_.” The silence in the Great Hall suddenly felt even more oppressive and Harry knew the spell was working. Putting his wand away, he lifted his head and faced his father, godfather, and professor.

“Merlin is only the persona the Dreamer within me took on to protect my identity from everyone in this world. To my friends and in my own world, I am Harry James Potter,” he turned to his father, “I am your son.”

* * *

He floated above everyone, watching them with trepidation. This was not how it was supposed to happen. Yet here they were, brought forth because of the machinations of those who could not resist the allure of power. If he had a solid form, he would have wept bitterly, cursing the ones who did this. This was not a world for people such as these. They had fought so hard, sacrificed so much, and had such bright futures ahead of them. He silently wept as they were drawn into another battle, another war. Why couldn't they rest?

Yet he also knew that they were the last hopes of this world, the only path left to put things right. There was one missing, but he knew that it would be inevitable that the man to arrive would be soon. He looked closer down upon one of their sleeping forms. It would soon be time...then one by one, they would be able to return. Yes...

The transition would be painful, but it was the only way.

Ah...there it was, the beginnings; the beginning of the end. Frowning, he looked at the others and decided to nudge another one awake. She would know the best of what was happening, but would also be the one hopefully not to panic much, though he highly doubted it.

He winced as he saw her come around, wakening sleepily rubbing her eyes before shaking out her mane of bushy brown hair before glancing-

 _No, that way...look the other way_ , he nudged her gently...

-and promptly her eyes widened to the size of saucers before she screamed.

 _And so it begins_ , he sighed quietly, floating a bit away so that their inner cores would not be able to sense him. There was no need for them to be reporting to the Weavers of his interference.

* * *

“...What?”

Harry was not surprised by the dumbfounded look on James' face, and in ways, it reminded him of himself whenever Hermione was on one of her long-winded explanations. “My friends and I somehow found ourselves in your world after being ripped from ours. Dumbledore was the first to find us and gave us the names we've been using as Merlin and his Knights.”

“Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Ginny Weasley, right?” Remus asked, looking at him shrewdly and he nodded.

“That's why they looked oddly familiar, yet different at the same time,” Sirius chimed in, thoughtful.

However, Harry looked at his father, “In my world, you and Mum are dead...”

“I...that's...”

“Voldemort killed both of you on October 31st, 1981 and left me with this scar,” he reached up and brushed away his bangs, “the same scar that my counterpart in this world-”

“That man is no son of mine!” James suddenly cut in roughly, “he is not Harry...you, god, I didn't realize it would be this confusing!”

“Hey, calm down James,” Sirius squeezed James' shoulder as the man pulled at his hair, a worn look crossing his features. The look that Harry was so used to on his face. Was it only just days ago that he had made his father laugh? Had given him something to laugh about? Now, he hoped that the worn look would have been replaced by a more energized look, a renewed hope of sorts, but all he could see was the defeated posture James had ever since he met his father in this world.

“So you're Harry Potter, from another world along with your friends,” Remus drew his attention away from the frustrated James, “why?”

“I don't know,” Harry shrugged, “I was hoping maybe someone could tell us? I mean, we suddenly found out about these Dreamer powers-”

“Wait you don't have Dreamer powers in your world?” his former professor chimed in sharply and Harry nodded.

“We have the legends of Merlin, but not of his Knights. There's a poem about Dreamers in Hermione's _Tales of Beedle the Bard_ , but that's about it. There are no Dreamers, Grindelwald was defeated in a duel by Dumbledore back in 1945, and Voldemort is the only Dark Lord in my world. Or at least he was when we defeated him days before we found ourselves in this world.” He felt a bit helpless, not realizing how hard it was to tell them what he knew. He did not want to reveal the existences of the Deathly Hallows to them just yet, nor the existence of Horcruxes. He did not know why, but could feel a strong caution from the Dreamer Merlin within him.

“A world with only Voldemort in it as the Dark Lord...” Sirius murmured before tilting his head, “you said he was defeated just days before you and your friends arrived here?”

“Yes,” said Harry, “it's...complicated.”

“And Lily and I are dead in your world?” James asked quietly.

A brief flash of sadness filled Harry before he pushed it aside, “Yes. Yours and Mum's love for me saved my life by rebounding the Killing Curse to Voldemort.”

“You survived the Killing Curse?” James' voice was barely above a whisper and Harry could hear something in his voice. Was it hope? Fear? Awe? He couldn't quite tell.

A part of Harry wanted to tell his father everything about what he had to go through with the lightning bolt scar on his forehead. How he had been sent to the Dursleys, the only family left. How Sirius had been wrongly accused of his own best friend and friend's wife's death. How Remus, shunned by the Ministry, even though it was during peacetime, had so much trouble finding a job and even then, had no one to comfort him through his transformations even with the Wolfsbane Potion. How he had finally found comfort and a family only to be killed during the battle at Hogwarts. How Sirius, freed from jail, died when Harry himself, foolish and blinded by his love for family got his godfather killed.

He wanted to tell all of this and so much more but shrank back from it. He realized that it was because he was ashamed, afraid, of what his father, what Sirius, and what Remus would say about his actions. How he had tried and failed so many times. They had forgiven him as ghosts when he used the Resurrection Stone to protect himself walking to Voldemort during that time in the Forbidden Forest. They had told him that they loved him and that he was very brave.

Yet, here was his father, his godfather, and his friend, all in the flesh. No ghostly spirits otherwise to reassure him from beyond the grave. They were real enough that he suddenly felt like a child again.

He realized that they were staring at him, waiting for his answer and he nodded, unable to suddenly speak from the lump in his throat. Remus and his Dreamer insight must have picked up on some of his inner turmoil before reaching out and squeezing him gently on the shoulder, a reassuring feeling.

“It must have been hard for you to see James and Lily,” the werewolf gave a sideways look at James who bowed his head, apologetic.

“It was...hard to see a lot of people,” he admitted, swallowing past the painful lump in his throat, “the final battle at Hogwarts took a lot of good people away.”

Sirius looked like he was about to say something when the doors to the Great Hall burst open and a harried looking Auror stumbled in. Immediately Harry lifted the _Muffliato_ spell with a flick of his wand.

“Good, you are still here, we didn't know if you had gone anywhere else-”

“What's wrong Kester?” James immediately leapt from his seat, his face blank and expressionless, his voice businesslike.

“Lady Ravenclaw says something's wrong-”

Harry didn't even bother finish hearing whatever the Auror was saying as he swept from the room, running towards the Room of Requirement. He could feel the pulsing uneasiness that Merlin had felt earlier and thought it was part of the fact that he was about to confess his identity to the three, but instead, now felt it as part of the Dreamer of Hopes within him. It had been a warning of sorts, a link that Remus had described weeks ago when the Hellhounds had attacked Hogwarts. He had not understood what the werewolf meant by those words, but now realized that with him slowly awakening to his Dreamer powers, he was able to share an innate connection with the others.

This particular one had manifested itself as uneasiness though judging by how harried the Auror Kester looked, it was probably more than that. It also meant that he had not fully awakened his powers as the Dreamer of Hopes.

He heard James, Sirius, and Remus following behind him along with the surprised shouts of a few Aurors he had narrowly missed on the stairs before finally arriving at the Room of Requirement. Immediately the door manifested itself, sensing his urgency and he pushed it open, running into the room and skidding to a stop.

What he saw made his eyes widen in shock.

Neville was lying prone on the bed, pale as a sheet, sweat dripping down his face. But what was most shocking was the fact that there was seemingly ghostly images of at least several other Neville's bursting out of his face, silent screams, yells of anger, and other expressions before just as suddenly the blurs of images stopped, slamming the fellow Gryffindor back against the sheets he clung to.

His breath came in great gasps and he looked like he was in some serious pain.

“N-Neville?” Harry tested out hesitantly; reaching a hand out, wondering what kind of spell it was...

“No wait! Harry don't touch-!”

Just as he barely brushed the air centimeters above Neville's foot, he found himself flying through the air and slammed heavily against a wall of books, the hard bindings pressing upon him, pages muffling his vision and senses. A sharp spike of pain lanced on top of his head and Harry was knocked out.


	17. Weaver's Council

Seconds had only passed judging by the chaos he could hear under the pile of books he was buried under. Harry had blackout for a few seconds after a rather large tome hit him on the head and felt it clip his shoulder before coming to a rest upon his right forearm. Pushing against the pile of books, he managed to extricate himself just as he felt arms grabbing hold of him and was half boldly hauled up from the books. Adjusting his glasses, he was surprised to see that it was none other than Sirius who had helped him up.

“Harry-” Hermione, Ginny, and Ron had been staring at the book pile he had emerged from when she clamped her hand over her mouth. “S-Sorry, Merlin...”

“They know,” Harry dismissed her concern with a wave of his hand before nodding his thanks to Sirius.

“They what?!” Ron’s outrage was palpable, even with Godric’s coloring of his words. Harry could feel the Dreamer inside of him wince at the harshness of his words, but ignored it as he rubbed his sore arm and moved towards Neville looked like he stopped having convulsions. He knew he would have to explain to his friends later on and maybe calm down again. Ever since they had come to this world, his best friend teetered on the edges of gruffness and anger. Actually that was not true, Ron had been teetering on the edges since he had been freed of the possession the Horcrux locket held on him back in the winter months. Shaking his head slightly, he made a silent resolve to really sit down and have a long talk with his best friend, but right now, Neville needed their help.

“Neville?” he asked hesitantly, bringing the fellow Gryffindor’s pain-filled gaze upon him as he took deep wheezing breaths.

The others also crowded around Neville’s bed and Harry was glad that Ron and Godric’s apparent anger had been tampered down by the more immediate concern about their friend.

“It…hurts,” Neville grimaced, wetting his lip, “feels like…being pulled in…different directions.”

“How?” Ginny was on the opposite side of the bed, her fingers twitching as she wanted to reach out and give some comfort to Neville, but was afraid to.

Neville bit his lip and shrugged painfully, “I…don’t know. I…see blurs, images…” He closed his eyes for a moment before they shot open once more and he sat up so quickly that Harry and the others jumped back a few paces. For a split second, he thought that Neville was about to go into convulsions once more before the fellow Gryffindor pinned him with a wide-eyed fearful stare.

“Harry,” Neville leaned forward, “I can’t feel him anymore!”

“Who?” the words fell from his mouth of their own accord before he realized who Neville was talking about, “wait, Nathan?”

Neville nodded desperately before looking at the others, puzzlement, fear, a myriad of confusion emotions running plainly through his face. Harry was at a loss and looked at the others, before staring at Hermione who shook her head wordlessly. Even with her encyclopedic knowledge, she didn’t know. Glancing back at his father, Remus, and Sirius, he was surprised to see Remus suddenly step forward, and take Neville’s hand into his own, a grave expression on his face.

“Professor wait-“ Hermione started loudly before they all realized that Remus hadn’t been tossed back like Harry had been moments earlier.

“Neville,” Remus leaned close, “close your eyes.”

“Y-Yes, Professor,” his friend complied before closing his eyes and Harry blinked as he saw and felt a flicker of the innate Dreamer power pulsate from Remus’ body before he lifted his left hand and hovered it just over Neville’s face, his right hand holding onto Neville’s hand tightly.

Ron opened his mouth to ask what was going on before a quiet shush from Hermione stopped him as they watched in fascinated silence what was happening before them. Harry looked back to see Sirius gripping the edges of the bed, a concerned look on his face, but what was equally curious was his father who was standing a bit away from them, his eyes also closed. His hands were by his side, but Harry could feel _something_ emanating from him, no more like guiding towards Remus.

 _He still believes he can help_ , Merlin whispered inside of him and Harry realized that his father, for all of the depression, and funk he had fallen into was still the man that he had thought he was. James Potter was still willing to try to help in any way shape or form, be it a fellow Dreamer, or even someone in distress.

Suddenly Harry felt a sharp spike of pain in his head and winced, just as he heard slight yelps of pain from Hermione, Ron, and Ginny. He grimaced as the pain faded away, but saw Remus’ eyes open as Neville’s did too and the two of them sitting back, the werewolf releasing his grip on Neville’s hand.

His friend immediately smiled, “It’s back! How did you-“

“Nathan was only trying to protect you the only way he knew how,” Remus looked haggard, but his eyes were bright.

“Protect him? By letting him convulse?” Ginny asked, confused.

“It is only the body that was convulsing,” the modulated and smooth tone of Nathan Hufflepuff suddenly erupted from Neville’s mouth and Harry saw Remus blink in surprise at the sudden change. “I protected your friend’s mind. To allow such a thing to damage his mind, it would be irreparable.”

“What…happened then?” Hermione asked.

“I cannot say,” the Dreamer sounded reluctant, “only the Weavers’ Council can.”

“That’s the second time we’ve heard of the Weavers’ Council,” Ron’s voice was a bit tight with anger, “who are they and why in bloody hell do we have to consult with them.”

“They will see you now, Mr. Weasley,” Dumbledore’s voice spoke quietly from the doorway to the Room of Requirement and all heads turned to see the Minister of Magic standing with his hands folded in front of him. His sharp gaze swept past Harry and his friends. “All of you.”

“Minister-“

“James, Sirius, Remus, would you all kindly step outside for a moment with me as we allow Mr. Potter and his friends to make themselves presentable?” the request was phrased politely, but Harry could hear and undercurrent of disappointing anger in them. He thought he saw a quick look of protest in Remus’ expression, but it past just as quickly before the three adults nodded their assent and followed the headmaster out of the room.

“Professor, now?” Neville asked, Nathan’s influence gone from his voice.

“In light of tonight’s past events, the Weavers’ Council have decided it is time to meet,” Dumbledore replied gravely before sweeping out of the room. Remus was the last one out, giving each of them a wan smile before closing the door behind him.

“Bugger, I had almost forgotten about the Founders’ Ball,” Ron shook his head and tromped off to the bathrooms, followed by Hermione and Ginny, all of them carrying plain robes.

“Neville, do you need help?” Harry asked, rifling through his chest before pulling out the silky smooth material he needed.

“No,” the fellow Gryffindor shook his head, “I think I can manage it. Where are you going?”

Harry had swept the invisibility cloak around his shoulders, making him appear just like a floating head before he made to throw the hood over his head. “I just want to hear something,” he quickly replied before covering his head with the cloak, effectively disappearing from Neville’s eyes.

Hurrying towards the door, still slightly ajar, he glanced back to where Neville was looking a bit puzzled, but nonetheless grabbed his own set of robes and went into the boys’ bathroom to change. He realized that Remus had not exactly closed the door, but rather left it open with the barest of cracks. Did his former professor want him to hear what was going on outside or even knew that he was curious as to what Dumbledore was going to say to them?

“So,” the headmaster sounded disappointed, “now you know. May I ask how?”

“The Dreamer within me told me otherwise,” Remus replied smoothly, “as for the other things, it was easy to see through their protective illusions once the pieces fell into place. The only thing that I needed to confirm was from the Founders Ball.”

“You knew that the Black Queen was going to be there?” Dumbledore asked sharply.

“No,” the werewolf replied tightly, “but from the descriptions that I had gotten from the others, and from the revelation that you, Headmaster, had lost your powers-“

“I am still the Minister of Magic and the Dreamer of Hopes. Mr. Potter, excuse me, Merlin is only heir to that power at the moment,” the unmistakable anger was present in Dumbledore’s tone and Harry himself was surprised at the sheer fury in them. Never had he heard the Headmaster speak to Remus or anyone else like that.

But what really puzzled him was why did Remus not tell Dumbledore that it was he who had caved into his own desires and revealed the truth of who he was to the three of them? He pushed the thought to the side as he saw through the crack Remus nod once.

“Headmaster,” his father suddenly stepped forward, “there is no need to worry. We are not foolish enough to spread this kind of secret around.”

“See to it that it doesn’t happen,” the headmaster shook his head, “the last thing we need is Crouch getting wind that our guests aren’t who they seem or even his lackey-“

“Marion is not a traitor, Headmaster,” James cut in, “I know her.”

“Just like you knew who had betrayed you that night?” the Minister countered.

“That’s not fair, that’s…” James trailed off as Sirius put a supportive hand on his friend’s shoulder.

Remus looked like he wanted to say more, but then glanced at the door that Harry was spying through and he immediately backed up, nearly running into Ron who had come out of the restroom, dressed.

“Hey what-“

Harry pulled off the invisibility cloak and hurriedly stuffed it under his pillow as the others came out of the bathrooms and shook his head at Ron who was staring at him puzzlement. He shrugged as if to say all right before the door reopened and Dumbledore stepped back in.

“I am terribly sorry for waking all of you up at this hour, but if you will follow me?” he gestured and for a second Harry thought he saw the old, kindly headmaster that he knew. Confusion filled him, wondering if the Headmaster he had heard outside was even the same man as the one who looked upon them with twinkling, but serious blue eyes.

“Where are we going?” Hermione asked as they headed down the stairs once more, this time the Aurors on patrol stopping and gaping without any shame at them. Harry glanced back to see James, Sirius, and Remus following behind them, all of them with equally serious faces, though he noted that his father had a slightly pained and worn expression on his face. Was it because of the words Dumbledore had said a few minutes ago?

Stepping out of the front doors and into the still summery night of Hogwarts, it took a moment, but Harry instantly recognized the area that Dumbledore was leading them to. It was where they had first arrived. Near the greenhouses, but far enough that there was a wide open patch of grassland on the grounds. Suddenly the Headmaster paused and bowed towards the inky darkness. He squinted to see who or what the Headmaster was bowing to, but saw no one.

“I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Minister of Magic, Headmaster of Hogwarts, and the leader of the Dreamers bearing the title of Hopes, humbly bring the Heirs before your presence,” the Headmaster’s bow was so low that Harry could see the point of his hat nearly touching the ground. In all of his life, even in his own world, he had never seen Dumbledore subservient to anyone, much less even bow to them.

“Then enter,” a calm voice spoke up from the darkness in front of Dumbledore. Slowly, a shimmering ghost-like form appeared, floating several inches above the ground, staring down at them. The man’s hands were folded in front of his robes and he looked grim.

“That’s…” Hermione whispered, her finger lazily pointing towards something that was emblazoned on the front of the man’s robes and Harry instantly recognized the symbol too – the sign of the Hallows.

“Blimey, do you really think he could be one of them?” Ron was gaping in awe.

As if the ghost-like man did not hear their words he gestured for them to come closer together. Harry and the others did so and he found himself drawn to the man, a feeling of déjà vu overcoming him.

“Albus, your services are no longer required. We wish only to speak to the Heirs and the current Dreamer of Temperance,” the man waved a hand at the Headmaster who immediately lifted his head and nodded once before stepping back from them. The brief shuffle of feet behind Harry told him that Remus had approached them and was standing behind him.

“Are you,” Harry hesitated for a second before a gentle nudging of encouragement from Merlin made him finish his question, “one of the Perevell brothers?”

The man finally stared at him and Harry was taken aback at the sheer amount of magical _power_ that exuded from the gaze. He could even feel the Dreamer inside of him tremble slightly at the awesome, but hidden display before the power suddenly lessened and the corner of the man’s lips twitched up in what could have been a smile.

“The littlest of them all, the one who seeks to unite the fellow Dreamers,” the man replied cryptically, “and yes, I am a Perevell. You may call me Ignotus.”

The creator of the invisibility cloak, the thought had instantly passed through Harry, Hermione, and Ron as they all shot looks at each other as a blinding white light filled their vision. Just as it became too painful for Harry to stand, the light disappeared and he blinked owlishly, struggling to clear the bright and colorful spots that had appeared in his vision.

When he finally managed to stop blinking rapidly, he found himself standing in the middle of a circle of standing stones on top of long tufts of grass. There were megalithic slabs which held even longer slabs above them. A trilithon if he was not mistaken based on what he had gleaned from the rare times he had sneaked peeks into the various BBC specials his Aunt and Uncle sometimes watched, like Stonehenge. Eleven individuals, all of them dressed in pale grey robes stood before the megalithic slabs, their ghost-like hands and feet hidden in the robes. Harry noted that Ignotus was amongst the group, dressed now in pale grey robes. Above them were the stars, twinkling and whatever moonlight shone down upon them cast eerie shadows, especially upon the slabs. But beyond the slabs, he could not see a thing.

“Well, this certainly reminds me of the last time I was here,” a familiar voice spoke up next to Harry and he whipped his head to see none other than Merlin, standing next to him as if he was flesh and blood. Beyond him, he was shocked to see at least four others standing next to his friends. He realized that they were the flesh-given forms of the Dreamer personas they had taken on. All of them looked just a bit older than they were, yet their faces spoke of the war and horrors they had faced, which made them seem a lot older.

“Merlin?” he looked at the young wizard who grinned at him, his blue eyes twinkling as he nodded once.

His friends had also noticed the others standing next to him and were either whispering their names or wordlessly, in the case of Ron, gaping at their counterparts. The only one who did not have a Dreamer standing next to him was Remus who did not look as surprised as Harry thought he would be.

“How could this be? I mean, I thought they were inside of us,” Hermione alternated between looking at the Knight Rowena Ravenclaw who by all means, looked completely different than the Founder of Hogwarts, and the grey-robed ghostly forms standing in front of the megaliths.

“You are Heirs, not yet awakened to your powers,” one of the grey-robed forms spoke up, its voice ethereal and seemingly feminine.

“Then how were Neville and I able to wield both Nathan and Selwyn’s powers when the Faydes attacked?” Ginny countered.

“They will aid you in the direst of need, but you must hold them in trust,” the same grey-robed being replied, as if speaking to a child.

“But we don’t even belong here,” Ron said plaintively, “we just finished defeating Voldemort in our world and then we found ourselves here? All we want to do is go home!”

“All of you?” a deep voice spoke up behind them and they turned to see another one of the grey-robed beings step forward, the voice deep, masculine, and carried the undercurrent of authority. Harry felt as if the voice was speaking to him deep within, bringing up all of his doubts about leaving this world for his own.

“We, the Weavers, have the ability to send you back, right now if that is what you desire,” the woman-like spirit said nonchalantly.

“Then do so! They do not belong here in this world! They have fought enough battles in the years that they do not need to fight this one!” Ignotus’ voice suddenly erupted from their right and Harry turned to see him suddenly throw his hood down, his ghost-like features trembling. But what surprised him the most was how eerily similar he looked like, almost like a cross between him and…

Harry whipped his head around to stare at Merlin before back to Ignotus and realized that Ignotus was a perfect blend of his father’s features, his features, and Merlin’s. That could not be a coincidence…

“Ignotus you have spoken out of turn!” the authoritative Weaver boomed out.

“I have not!” the youngest of the Perevell brothers shot back angrily, “I have seen how much they have sacrificed-“

“Who are you to judge sacrifice, brother? For hiding from Death so long-“

“I do not believe-“

The other Weavers suddenly pulled their hoods off or started to shout at each other, creating a cacophony of noise that bewildered Harry and his friends. He looked over to see that even Remus was wide-eyed with shock and surprise at the turn of events and the fact that the fabled Weavers’ Council that Dumbledore had spoken with such reverence was squabbling amongst each other.

A quick glance at the Dreamers standing next to them revealed much about their thoughts and feelings. Merlin had a stony expression on his face while Godric had literally stuck his fingers into his ears. Rowena and Nathan looked about ready to hex someone while the Wood Elf Selwyn stared at the squabbling Weavers with a flat look. “They do this all the time,” he barely heard the muttering of words from the Dreamer and looked at him.

“Every generation, every time, that we are summoned before the Weavers, they always end up in a row,” the young-looking wizard glanced at him before crossing his arms across his chest. It was then that Harry noticed he was wearing a simple blue shirt, brown pants, brown jacket with a red kerchief tied around his neck. To anyone else, he looked like a Muggle instead of one of the greatest and most powerful wizards to walk the face of the Earth.

“Why?” he asked quietly, wondering if he should speak up to shut them all up, but he did not want to anger the Weavers. He had a feeling that they considered themselves god-like in this world even though he had never heard of them in his own. Hermione's book also did not mention the Weavers except for the Dreamers being part of the Weavers Council.

“We the Weavers, control the balance of this world,” Ignotus suddenly spoke up next to Harry, bringing all of the Dreamers and his friends' gaze upon him. The other Weavers continued to squabble as Ignotus paid them no heed. Harry had a feeling that the youngest Perevell brother had orchestrated the squabble to talk to them alone.

“You could be right,” Merlin leaned close to his ear and whispered.

“You can read my mind?” he shot a look at the young man who grinned sheepishly.

“We,” he gestured to the other Dreamers standing next to his friends, “are only incarnates in your minds here amongst the Council. Figured it be easier if it seemed that you all had extra back up next to you instead of communicating with you inside your mind.”

“Clever,” Hermione nodded and next to her Rowena blushed, her black-brown tresses falling over her face as she ducked her head.

“So you control this world?” Neville spoke up.

“We control the balance of this world,” Ignotus corrected gently, “not the world itself.”

“You mean, you control the Dreamers?” Hermione asked, “But how can you control something magical? In Magical Theory, we were taught that it's innate and spontaneous. Not something that can be controlled. That's why sometimes in times of extreme emotion, magical children sometimes accidentally do spells, even adults or students outside of Hogwarts.”

The ghost-like man smiled sadly before gesturing to each one of their counterparts, “That is the theory and thought behind it. But it is one difference between your world and this one that you have been brought into.”

“So why were we brought into this one?” Ginny asked.

“The others,” Ignotus gestured in an unfriendly way to the still squabbling Weavers, “would have you think you are to help defeat Grindewald and Voldemort. But in reality, all of you were brought here to restore the balance.”

“Balance?” Ron looked skeptical.

Ignotus nodded to Remus, “You, Temperance, know how delicate that balance has been for the past seventeen years.”

“Yes,” Remus nodded sadly, “with your father, Harry, and even your mother, losing their powers early on in the renewed war after your counterpart's supposed death in 1981, the others slowly lost their powers. Even Dumbledore-”

“Do not speak of his name,” Ignotus cut Remus off who looked momentarily surprised, but then inclined his head once.

“The balance of power, where there had been Six Virtues of man was left down to me. In the meantime, the Seven Sins grew in strength and number, overwhelming us and driving us from London to Hogwarts, our last outpost.”

“And now, you all stand at the brink of defeat,” Harry was beginning to understand as the pieces fell into place.

“All of the Dreamers, when they begin to lose their powers, they would have already chosen an Heir to receive the powers, so as to keep the balance between the Dreamer Virtues and Sins. In the time that your predecessors lost their powers, there was no one deemed worthy enough to take up that mantle.”

“And what happens then?” Ron asked.

“We slowly fade away, as if we've never existed,” Godric answered, his voice gruff with an unspoken emotion.

“So then why were we brought here?”

“Don't you understand Ron?” Hermione looked at him, her eyes gleaming like she had stumbled upon the final piece of the puzzle. She looked at everyone else; while next to her Rowena could not keep the wide smile of pride off of her face. “We were brought here to prevent that from happening. They needed us here to make sure that the balance was somehow restored and that there wasn't one dominant force in the world.”

Her friends stared at her and she shook her head, “We're stopgaps, here to ensure that there is always balance in this world.”

“So we're stuck here? Forever?” Ron looked dismayed.

“No,” Ignotus quickly shook his head before gesturing to Neville, “your friend here recently demonstrated the means for him to return to your world.”

“The convulsions?” Harry and Ginny spoke up at the same time. Neville's eyes widened with fear before Nathan placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Yes,” the ghost-like figure looked excited, “entropic cascade failure is the only way for you to get back to your world.”

Everyone, the Dreamers, and even Remus looked at Ignotus as if he had grown another head. Harry could not even begin to comprehend whatever the Perevell had said. The ghost-like figure must have seen their complete bafflement before his smile died a little. “The convulsions are a sign that the magic in the world is at an imbalance. To put it simply, there cannot be two of a single entity in one world. That is why the magical forces of this world are trying to compensate for the extra imbalance of the world by getting rid of you.”

“You mean trying to kill me?” Neville had a pole axed expression on his face, “because that's what it felt like. Worst than the Cruciatus curse, and as far as I can imagine, maybe how the Killing Curse feels like, except not as long and drawn out.”

“If this...entropic cascade failure is happening to Neville, why not us?” Hermione asked, her brow furrowed in thought.

“Perevell, what are you telling them?!” they had almost forgotten that the rest of the Weavers were there until one of the shouted in their direction. Harry saw Ignotus freeze for a moment before lifting his head up and turning to face the voice, a neutral expression on his face.

“The effects of entropic cascade failure,” the Weaver replied in a mild tone.

His words immediately silenced the other Weavers before the one who had interrupted them stepped forward, an angry look on his face. Harry thought he vaguely recognized the man's features before he realized that the man looked a lot like Ignotus. He had to be another one of the Perevell brothers. Which one, he could not tell, but with a pinched face and hawk-like eyes, it wasn't hard to believe that he could have been Antioch Perevell, the creator of the Elder Wand, the Deathstick.

“That is Antioch,” Merlin leaned over and confirmed his suspicions with a whisper in his ear, “creator of the Deathstick.”

“When did this happen?” Antioch demanded, glaring at all of them. Harry wanted to shrink back in fear, but a part of him realized that it was the Weavers' who were deliberately throwing their power and weight around, trying to intimidate him. That was how they had directed the balance of power all of these years, by “guiding” and by controlling what the Dreamers could and could not do – through intimidation and by the fact that they were the Weavers Council, the ruling body of magic in _this_ world.

“Minutes before we were to meet all of you,” Neville said his voice quivering in fear. Harry realized that his friend did not know what he had figured out and thus was fearful in the presence of such awe and intimidation.

“No, that's too early, it is too early for such a thing to happen,” another voice, youthful and sprightly spoke up, before a hood was pulled down and Harry definitely saw the family resemblance. This had to be the second brother, Cadmus, the creator of the Resurrection Stone. Out of the corner of his eye he saw both Ginny and Hermione blush slightly and to his chagrin, noted that Cadmus had an effect on women much like Gilderoy Lockhart had.

“Women,” Godric muttered none too loudly next to Ron, rolling his eyes.

“This was supposed to happen?” Remus asked, nearly making Harry jump up. He had forgotten that his former professor was with them. “This...entropic thing was supposed to happen to these children?”

“Yes,” Ignotus nodded simply, “it was the signal to the Dreamers that their counterparts in this world were ready to finally accept them as the true Heirs. That their hearts, mind, and soul were ready to take up the mantle of the Virtues of Man and continue the fight.”

“Is that true?” Harry looked at Merlin who nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line. The legendary wizard did not look too happy, but confirmed his question.

“Wait, so let me get this straight. You,” Ron gestured to the Weavers angrily, “brought us here so that we can just be placeholders? That we have to fight yet another war, even die, to make sure that our counterparts in this world are ready?! Why did you even bring us here in the first place?!”

“Because none of them were ready. They were fighting a loosing war, Ron,” Ginny answered her brother's accusations, an expression of comprehension filling her face; “it all makes sense now.” She turned to Remus, “Professor, you said that the current generation of the Dreamer Virtues lost their powers soon after 1981, leaving only you as the sole Dreamer right?”

“Yes,” the werewolf replied.

Ginny turned back to them, “Don't you see? Everyone in this Ministry has little to no hope left right now. They know they're fighting a loosing battle that no one can win. They know that without their powers to combat the Dreamer Sins of Man, they will eventually lose. Even our counterparts know this and they don't have the fortitude to accept that power. With our arrival, we gave them something to hope for and gave them something to believe in.”

“I keep having convulsions then?” Neville looked ill at the prospect.

“It means that your counterpart in this world, this world's Neville Longbottom, is ready to embrace his destiny as the true Dreamer of Justice,” Ignotus said in a calm voice, “all you have to do is transfer Justice's power to him.” He looked at the other silent Weavers, “Then we will transport you back home before the entropic cascade failure can kill you.”

“It can kill you?” Neville swayed on his feet, but was only steadied through Nathan's strong hand on his shoulder as the Dreamer of Justice shot a dirty look at Ignotus.

“Before that happens, I will make sure you are safe, Neville,” the Dreamer said in a firm tone, “I will not let anything happen to you before I protect my new keeper.”

“If it is that simple, how come we're all not experiencing this...en-whatever thing,” Ron asked and Harry bit his lip, grimacing. He understood why...especially for his case. If it was that simple, then it was he who was probably never returning back to his own world, especially if the Black Queen had anything to say about it.

“Ron,” Hermione hissed, elbowing him in the arm, “think about it.” A none too gentle tug towards his direction made his best friend immediately clamp his mouth shut as he met his gaze.

“Sorry,” Ron mumbled, looking away.

“It's fine,” Harry shrugged, trying to push the thought to the side.

“The real question I believe should be posed is do all of you want to return?” Antioch looked at all of them. “There is doubt in your hearts. Do you not want to help these people?”

“I believe that is a decision they were not able to make-”

“I did not address you Temperance,” the eldest of the Perevell brothers shot Remus a dark look before facing them once more.

“I think you should,” Harry and Merlin spoke up at the same time, the two of them staring at Antioch. He could feel the Dreamer's anger melding with his own, or was it just the Dreamer's anger, he could not tell. But the faint echo of the same sentiments was clear even though technically Merlin was standing next to him instead of in his mind. He could still feel the familiar and comforting presence of the Dreamer of Hopes within him, bolstering him.

“You speak with authority Dreamer of Hopes. You dare contradict this esteemed Council's orders?” Antioch drew himself up, and the other Weavers, except for Ignotus, gathered closer to him.

“I'm sorry,” Harry ignored Antioch and turned to his friends, “I'm sorry Ron. I told James, Sirius, and Remus here who I really was and who all of you were because I want to stay and help.” Though it was a bit disconcerting to see Merlin next to him mimicking all of his facial motions and even his speech he resolutely accepted it as the Dreamer that was part of him. There was so much more he wanted to say, but he did not feel like sharing it at the moment. It was hard enough to admit that he wanted to stay because of his parents, especially since they all had just been through a war and a horrific battle that had claimed so many lives.

He saw Ron nod once, and Hermione brush away a tear from her eyes. Even Ginny was beaming at him and Neville grinning sheepishly. Having his friends approval he turned to face Antioch and the other Weavers, “Remus is right, Antioch.” The barely hidden flicker of surprise in the ghost-like being's eyes was a sign that he was rattling the Weaver. “We were brought here without reason or cause and then come to realize that it was you who had sent us here because you needed to balance the scales so to speak. There is something else you're not telling us and gleaning from the Dreamer memories compiled by so many years of fighting, is that this war, will never end.”

“That's not true-”

“That is the truth,” Harry curled a hand into a fist, “because if the Virtues of Man win this war, then sometime in the near future, the Dreamers of the Sins will rise up once more to balance your scales.”

Antioch and the other Weavers were silent.

“So here's what I propose,” he took a deep breath and glanced at his Dreamer avatar who grinned ruefully and nodded his head, “I'm willing to stay and help until the Black Queen can inherit the mantle of Hopes. I will help my parents, alive in this world, fight to survive. I will make sure Hogwarts does not fall. My friends will make their own decisions and if they want to leave, right now, you will send them back no questions asked.”

“You cannot accomplish this on your own, that's preposterous!”

Harry raised an eyebrow, staying silent as next to him, Merlin grinned wolfishly and replied, “Try me.”

“You think you can come here and dictate-”

“I'll send his friends back if that is what they want,” Ignotus cut in front of Antioch, spurred on by Harry's hardball negotiation.

“You would do this? Turn your back on your own brothers? Against the Council's wishes?” Antioch drew himself up to his full height, glaring down at his little brother.

“I would, because you know as well as I do, it was not right to bring them here. That all of them deserve their rest after defeating Voldemort. That for them to fight another war would be so heartbreaking.”

Antioch and the other Weavers stared at Ignotus for a long moment before looking at the others. “Then let it be done. We will honor your agreement, Harry James Potter, Heir of Hopes. If your friends wish to leave, they may return to this spot and we will send them back.”

“Thank you,” Harry replied just as the blindingly painful white light filled his vision, sending them back to Hogwarts.


	18. Fated Decisions

Harry and his friends stayed up all night after their meeting with the fabled Weavers, occasionally talking, but mostly just sitting in silence as each one of them contemplated the chance to go home to their world and the fact that Harry was staying no matter what. He himself had sat in quiet contemplation, still reeling from his momentous decision. He would have liked to think it was impetuous and spur-of-the-moment, but in reality, he knew that deep down, it was what he wanted. He knew that when he took the first step of telling his father, Sirius, and Remus who he was, he had committed himself to staying here to win the war against Grindelwald and Voldemort, Dreamer or not be damned.

After they had been transported back, they had found the others still waiting for them, and had realized that only minutes had passed since they had disappeared to when they returned. Time was a fickle thing. Dumbledore had approached them, but before he could even ask what their meeting was about Remus had stepped in front of the Headmaster and shook his head, saying that they needed their privacy before suggesting that they all retire for the night.

Harry wondered if Remus would tell Dumbledore of what transpired during their meeting with the Weavers, but somehow knew that his friend and former Professor would keep everything in confidence. His father, on the other hand, would probably be able to garner some details out of Remus. He didn’t quite mind it, but he hoped that whatever Remus told his father and Sirius, it would be to his discretion.

“So you’re really staying mate?” Ron asked, glancing at his direction. He was picking at a thread on his covers. All of them had dark circles under their eyes, evident from the lack of sleep as the light in the room grew brighter from a window Ginny had manipulated the room to have, giving them a view of the Quidditch pitch and beyond that the lake.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, leaning against the headboard, staring at nothing in particular.

“I know we’ve talked about it, but really, why?” his best friend shook his head, the lack of comprehension filling his eyes.

Harry closed his eyes, sighing before opening them again. He could feel the Dreamer within him yawn just as sleepily before seemingly falling back asleep. Ever since he had understood and talked with Merlin inside of him, it was as if the two of them co-existed inside his body, yet, the Dreamer always gave ground to him every time and echoed his sentiments. Allies, if only temporarily sharing one body. He took the unabashed hint of Merlin falling back asleep as a sign from him that he should get some sleep, but ignored it.

“Why don’t you want to stay?” he asked again. It was the same question he had been trying to ask Ron the whole night since they returned from the meeting. Yet his best friend refused to answer it.

Just as before, he saw him look away, silent, angry and rolled his eyes. Sometimes Ron could be such a pain like now-

“I don’t like knowing that Fred’s alive in this world,” Ron muttered mostly under his breath. Beyond him, he saw Hermione, Ginny, and Neville, seemingly about to fall asleep perk up at his words. They all stared at Ron and Harry blinked in surprised.

“Ron…he’s our brother-“

“I know!” Ron gritted his teeth, “he’s my brother. Your brother, Gin, George’s brother…I just…” He sighed loudly and pulled at his hair, before looking up at Harry, “How do you deal with it?”

“With what?”

“With…death, and all that? How do you deal with-” Ron seemed to freeze up, and Hermione reached out, lacing her fingers through one of Ron’s hands, squeezing it once for reassurance.

In that instant, Harry understood that this was essentially the first time Ron had to deal with the death of someone so close to him, a family member. He had no idea how to react, and especially since Fred’s death was so new and so fresh, for them to be ripped into this world then told that his brother was still alive, hale, and healthy. It was as if Fred Weasley’s death had never happened at all. He himself had seen death since he was just a year old; had seen it again when Cedric died, when Sirius fell into the Veil. He had even died himself, or at least nearly died, twice.

However, the realization that Ron and maybe his other friends, had never really dealt with death first hand, the Battle for Hogwarts weeks ago was their first time in truly comprehending that it was a war and in wars, lives were lost. Hermione, Ginny, and Neville seemed to accept it as much, Neville especially. But Ron, no Ron was angry, irritated, unable to accept the fact that his brother had died.

And it was in that moment that Harry realized that his best friend was hurting, badly, from the pain and loss of someone so close to him.

He himself had pushed away the pain, compartmentalized it so that he could move on, push towards his own goal, defeating Voldemort. But unlike Ron, and probably similar to what Neville was facing, their trip to this dimension had broken those barriers he had kept so tightly within himself. He was shocked to see his parents alive, shocked to find Sirius alive, all of the people whom he had loved, still alive in this world and it had made him yearn to make sure that they were kept alive. The years removed from their deaths to now was what made him hopeful, not angry, but the lack of years removed from the death of Fred Weasley to Ron, was just mere weeks.

It was like a scab, trying to heal, but still bleeding. His own scabs had formed a healing barrier already. That was what was driving Ron’s irrational anger at everything, driving Godric’s stubbornness whenever the Dreamer asserted its self over Ron to help him. The two of them were bringing the worst side of each other out, and it was because Ron hadn’t learned how to cope with the pain of loss yet.

A gentle nudge from Merlin who had awakened when Ron had asked the question, made him realize he had stayed silent, staring at his feet. Biting his lip, he drew in a deep breath before letting it out slowly. There was no easy way to answer Ron’s question, so he decided the truth was the best way to answer it. “I…didn’t cope,” he started quietly. “I pushed it away, buried myself in school stuff. Had other things to worry about,” he absently rubbed his scar, a brief grimacing smile appearing on his face.

“Like when Sirius died,” Hermione whispered, “oh Harry…”

“I guess, I’m probably still feeling a bit of what you’re feeling Ron,” Harry shrugged, “angry, wondering why Sirius and even my parents are alive in this world when they’ve all died in ours. That I don’t want to see them, because it hurts too much…”

“Yeah,” Ron’s whisper was barely audible, “I…don’t want to screw up this world. I mean, what if I’m here and it’s because that I’m here Fred dies again?”

“Ron, don’t say-“

“Well, it could be true, Gin,” Ron looked at his sister, eyes blazing, “I mean, we’re supposed to be the bloody Knights of Merlin, Dreamers, whatever, and we’re supposed to be the saviors of this world! What if our stand against Voldemort and Grindelwald, gets others killed?!”

Ron’s outburst rendered the room silent as each thought about the same thing. Harry hadn’t really realized the truth to his friend’s words until just now. What if, in the process of trying to _save_ the Black Queen, he got his parents, godfather, and everyone he loved and knew killed? Then what would this world’s Harry Potter be able to believe in? Could he watch his friends’ counterparts die? See Hermione, Ron, Neville, and Ginny even others like Seamus and Dean, could he watch them die in this world knowing that they were safe and sound in his own?

“It’s something we have to face,” Neville suddenly spoke up, his lips quavering with fear, but he plowed on. “That if we or even our counterparts, die in this world, that they would have died for something. I’m afraid of dying, I’ll admit that, but after facing Nagini, Voldemort, and his Death Eaters, I know that I’ll do everything I can to make sure that people survive, even if I have to die for it. I don’t want to see my Mum or Dad in this world tortured like they are back home, so I’m looking at this like a second chance of sorts, to make sure that we can prevent what’s happened back home here.”

Harry stared at Neville, a sense of pride filling him. Not in his lifetime would he had ever expected such words to come out of the shy Gryffindor, but now…

“Second chance, huh?” Ron snorted lightly before shoving Neville gently on the shoulder, “second chance to make things right?”

“Yeah,” Neville grinned sheepishly.

“Second chance to make sure Fred doesn’t die, and no one, no one from our family pays the price, right Ginny?” Ron looked at his sister who nodded firmly, her brown eyes sparkling with determination. His best friend turned to him and caught his eyes. “So, I guess you’ll have to put up with me a little longer.”

“At least it isn’t the troll in the attic,” Harry shot back, a grin forming on his tired face.

“You guys…” Hermione heaved a loud sigh before throwing her arms across both Neville and Ron’s shoulders, drawing the two closer to her and shaking her head in mock exasperation.

“You know, Mum’s gonna kill us for staying this long, even if it’s in another dimension,” Ginny laughed.

“Yeah, but we can tell her that we kept Fred safe after this whole war is over,” Ron replied.

“We can tell her that we kept everyone safe,” Harry added. He glanced at Neville and knew that one hurdle had been cleared. The next one was to make sure that their friend would not die from the entropic cascade failure and that meant talking to Remus about how to transfer Dreamer powers.

* * *

After their decision had been made, they had all attempted to turn in to their beds for maybe a couple hours of sleep, but that had been interrupted by Marius Sadow knocking on their door and politely inviting them to breakfast with the rest of the staff and students living at Hogwarts. At first Harry wanted to tell the Auror that they needed to rest, having stayed up all night, but then realized it would worry those who knew of their meeting with the Weavers and decided to go. The others had agreed, rather reluctantly, even in Hermione’s case, and joined him too.

So Harry found himself blinking his eyes rapidly behind his glasses, trying very hard not to fall flat into his bowl of porridge from the lack of sleep. It was only until a gentle nudge to his arm from Remus who he was sitting next to made him blearily look up to see his mother holding a small goblet of something that smelled suspiciously like a Pepper-Up Potion.

“It’s a bit of Pepper-Up mixed with good old fashioned Muggle coffee,” she whispered from where she sat diagonally across to his left. Dumbledore was sitting at the far end of the table, holding the rest of the staff who were closer to him enraptured with a story Harry could not even remember the words to. He accepted the goblet and drank a bit of the liquid concoction inside it, immediately feeling the fatigue and tiredness within him drain away.

“Thank you,” he whispered back before tapping Ron on the shoulder who jerked slightly in his seat, nearly sending some of the scrambled eggs he had on his fork into the air as he came awake.

“Wha-“ Harry shoved the goblet in front of his best friend who stared at for a minute before sniffing it. “Smells like…”

“Pepper-Up and coffee,” Harry said quietly before gesturing with his head towards Lily, “should help us stay awake.”

“If you say so,” Ron stared dubiously at the steaming liquid before drinking some. Immediately Harry noticed that the fatigue and dark circles around Ron’s eyes had disappeared and he looked more alert. “Hey, this stuff works!”

“Pass it on,” he gestured wordlessly to Neville, Ginny, and Hermione, the two girls attempting to be enraptured by Dumbledore’s story as they sat across from them. The others drank it and soon, they were all looking more alert and feeling a lot better than when they had trudged down to the Great Hall to join everyone for breakfast.

It was just as so, or perhaps not a coincidence, that the Minister had finished his tale much to the applause of the students who were living at Hogwarts. They were the ones sitting closest to him, and only Professor McGonagall was closer, having taken the seat to Dumbledore’s right.

For a moment Harry was struck at how kingly and powerful Dumbledore looked at the other end of the table. How in command the man he had only known as the kindly old Headmaster of Hogwarts, looked. How much he had sacrificed to bring together the surviving band of the last beacon of light against the darkness that was Voldemort. Shaking his head minutely, he mentally glared at Merlin who had pushed forward that particular poetic thought and got the feeling of a snickering apology.

“I invited all of you here to today,” he gestured to everyone, even the Aurors that were not on duty and some that were, lining the edges of the Great Hall, Crouch Jr. included, “to discuss last night’s events.”

The lightened mood in the Great Hall immediately plummeted and Harry saw that more than one of the students whispered to the others next to them. Even a few Aurors were whispering to one another, but the table mostly fell into silence, all conversation halted. “As you may have heard, the Black Queen revealed himself at the Founders’ Ball last night. The rumor had it that he was someone with whom we had all thought dead.”

Everyone who had heard the rumor or had known shot looks at both James and Lily, the former of the two sitting next to Neville who was two seats down from Harry’s right. Harry could guess what his father’s expression was so instead; he looked at his mother and his siblings in this world to gauge their expressions. Lily wore a stoic, but sad look while Iris looked positively terrified. However, it was Eddie’s expression that caught Harry off guard. Though it wasn’t noticeable through the frown the young man wore, his eyes were alight with defiance, as if daring the Headmaster to say something bad.

“From the reports I had gathered after our agents returned, it seems that the Black Queen is also the Dark Lord’s Heir, which means, he will control Fears if and when the Dark Lord decides to pass on his power,” Dumbledore said gravely.

“Headmaster, do we really think that the Dark Lord would give up his power within the next few years?” the question was raised by one of the Aurors whom Harry didn’t know the name of, but had seen him before.

“Possibly Kester,” Dumbledore replied, “the Weavers may have consulted him and with the loss of this generation’s Dreamer powers, given to Merlin and his Knights, it may signal the era of change.”

“Then if the Black Queen is truly the Heir to Fears, we should strike now, while he has little of the Dark Lord’s power,” Barty Crouch Jr. spoke up, “eliminating an Heir while we have the chance is the only way we’ll be able to win this forsaken war.”

“What if that’s exactly what he wants you to do?” James interrupted Crouch’s rally, his voice cold. “To attack him. For all we know, it could be trap.”

“You’re just afraid because he’s your son,” Crouch immediately shot back, silencing all conversation and whispers.

“That…man, he is no son of mine-“ James began, leaning forward in his seat to glare down the table at Crouch who wore an equally stony look.

“He’s Harry Potter and you know it!”

“Harry James Potter died back then! That man is no son of mine! That man claiming to be Harry James Potter is not my son!” James exploded with anger, yelling at Crouch.

Though Harry knew that James was talking about the Black Queen, he still couldn’t suppress a flinch of hurt at the way his father was denouncing his name. Somehow, it felt like a slap in the face.

“Well, he sure as hell looked a lot like you, has Lily’s eyes-“

“Don’t you dare drag her into this Crouch-“

“Don’t butt your greasy arse into this Snivellus-“

“Shut up Snape, fat lot it did you good,” Crouch glared at Snape who had half-risen in his seat, looking for all the world to hex Crouch from where he sat.

Harry’s head swiveled back to see his father had also half rose from his seat, glaring at Snape, eyes angry. “And for the record Crouch,” he had never seen his father so angry, yet so pained at the same time, “that Black Queen, is not my son.”

“Well, he’s my brother!” Eddie suddenly shouted, interrupting whatever Crouch was about to retort. The youngest of the Potter family stood up from his seat, glaring back and forth between his father and Crouch who were on opposite sides of him. To Harry it also seemed that Eddie was glaring at everyone else at the table.

“He’s my brother,” the young man started again, lips pinched in anger, ripping his hand away from Lily’s attempt to sit him back down, “he’s my brother and I…just…” Eddie’s lip quivered, belaying how very young he was, even though he was at the cusp between being a child and being an adult.

“Eddie, he can’t be your brother-“

“But he said so, Mum!” Eddie’s desperate plea cracked part of his voice as he looked towards her, “he said that he was Harry…he was…the one I saw you cry every time the end of the month roll around and on Halloween.”

An abortive moment out of the corner of Harry’s eye made him glance to see James trying to wipe the shocked expression off of his face as he sat back down in his seat, misery clouding his face once more. He turned back to see Eddie biting his lip as he sat back down, passion spent. Next to him, young Iris had tears in her eyes, and she was rubbing them furiously. Harry felt a pang of sympathy for the two teenagers, their whole world turned upside down with the knowledge that their older brother, whom they had thought dead, was actually alive, but was fighting on Grindelwald’s side – had even threatened them, especially Iris.

“Just because he says who he say he is, doesn’t mean it is true, Eddie,” Lily said softly.

“Then why did he say that Merlin knows everything?” Eddie shot a look at him and Harry braced himself for the inevitable as he saw all gazes turn towards him.

Immediately he felt the support of Merlin within him and a quick look down the table at his friends also told him that they were ready for whatever he would tell the assembled people. In the midst of their conversations during the night, Hermione had expressed her disappointment in the fact that James, Sirius, and Remus now knew their true identities, but she had also said that she completely understood why. But, Harry knew that he was not going to tell everyone who they really were. The more they thought of them as Merlin and his Knights, the easier it would be for them to leave when everything was set and done, at least that was Neville’s reasoning.

“Because, Edward,” he felt Merlin color his words, and wondered why the Dreamer did not address him as Eddie, “that man, it is true he is Harry James Potter and your long lost brother.” Looking at the others, especially Crouch and his band of Aurors, some whom were sitting at the table, others whom lined the walls of the Great Hall, he made sure his next words were specifically addressed to him; he still believed that Crouch Jr. was a spy within the Ministry. “It is my belief that the Black Queen should not be killed for being what he is-“

“A murderer?” Crouch Jr. sneered.

“A victim,” Harry corrected. He took a deep breath before plunging on, taking all of the knowledge he had known and had speculated since the revelation of his counterpart as this world’s Black Queen; all of the newspaper articles, what Sirius and Remus had told him last night, and even his own theories. “Stolen from his parents the night of the attack on Godric’s Hollow-“

Here he saw both James and Lily flinch.

“-raised by Grindelwald to be his assassin, the young man had a choice, but it was taken away from him. He should not be killed, but rather, should be saved.”

“You mean to tell us that you plan to _save_ the Black Queen?!” Mad-Eye Moody growled out, his tone incredulous.

Harry was about to reply before an Auror burst through the doors of the Great Hall, gasping as if he had run miles upon miles. “Hogsmeade, under attack!” the Auror gasped out as he bent forward to catch his breath. Some of the Aurors who lined the wall had come forward to help their fellow comrade in need while others immediately headed out of the Great Hall.

“What kind of attack?” Dumbledore had stood up from his seat, his face an ever presence of calm and serenity, but Harry caught glints of battle-readiness in them.

“T-The B-Black Queen, Minister,” the Auror looked fearful and Harry felt his breath hitch. It could not be a coincidence.

“Well, Merlin, seems the Fates have listened to your plea and answered you,” Crouch snarled before exiting the Great Hall along with the rest of the Aurors.

Immeidately the rest of the table sprang into action and Harry saw McGonagall gathering the small group of students together helped by several of the professors who lived at Hogwarts in the summer. Dumbledore was barking orders to the Aurors, telling a few to stay behind and guard the wards, others were assigned to their stations outside on the grounds.

Harry himself bit his lip and absently patted the phoenix and holly wand that he kept up his sleeve. Hogsmeade was under attack and the Black Queen was rumored to be there. Was he ready to do what he had said to the Weavers? To bring his counterpart back from the brink of darkness and into the light? He wasn’t even a full Dreamer yet, only able to grasp bits and pieces of Hopes’ power. But then again, neither was the Black Queen.

“Harry…” Ginny, who was sitting across from him, reached out with her hand and absently grasped his own. He looked into her eyes and saw the fierce determination in them, the same one that had made him fall in love with her. She would support him no matter what…

The corner of his lips twitched up in an attempt to smile before he looked at his other friends, all whom nodded their assent. They would follow him like they had agreed to just hours ago. They would all stay and see this to the end. His gaze continued along the table and saw that his father, Sirius, and even a few other Aurors were still seated, all staring expectedly at him, waiting for him to make his decision. He wondered if they had stayed seated because they wanted to see what he was going to do, but a reassuring nod from James told him that his father had said something to those Aurors, maybe not that he wasn’t Merlin, but something else that held the trust in their eyes.

 _They acknowledge you as the next Dreamer of Hopes, Harry_ , Merlin whispered quietly in his mind, _they are ready to believe in you_.

 _I’m not the next Hopes…only a placeholder_ , he shot back wirily, _and it’s this world’s Harry Potter that’s the next Hopes._

 _Only so, but for now, they are beginning to believe_ , the ages old Dreamer replied.

Wordlessly, he got up, drawing his wand before sweeping out of the Great Hall. Behind him, he heard the scrapes of chairs being pushed back and the roaring cheer that resounded behind him as he and his friends headed out of Hogwarts and towards Hogsmeade. Before, he said he was committed to helping this world, now, he knew that his actions were going to prove that. And he was going to save his counterpart.

* * *

“So, it looks like they have chosen.”

“You deliberately manipulated this, Anitoch.”

“Oh no Ignotus, it was you who tried to manipulate this, to send them back to their own world. Your plans have failed.”

“What, no defiance, no words of anger?”

“I have not failed.”

“Anitoch, he does have a point.”

“Shut your mouth Cadmus, you stupid fool.”

“Mark my words, brother, your plans, your manipulations, will not see the light of day.”

“Are you so sure, Ignotus?”

“I am, because I believe.”

* * *

Harry pushed himself further into the rock wall he used as a cover as slivers of rock and pebble bounced off of his shoulder, some of the flying dirt hitting his face. He had barely avoided the last spell thrown at him by a Death Eater. Next to him, he heard more than saw the movement of Sirius throwing a wordless spell towards the Death Eaters before ducking back into cover.

“We need to move forward!” Sirius yelled above the din of spells clashing with each other, some occasionally hitting rocks. To Harry the noise sounded like the staccato of gunfire, the same ones he had heard in the Muggle movies that Dudley loved to watch.

Harry risked a quick peek over the rock wall and saw that while Neville and Ginny were holding their own with their Dreamer powers, they were struggling to keep the Death Eaters at bay along with various other creatures that Grindelwald had within his army. Near them, also in the cover of the rock walls surrounding some of the Hogsmeade houses, were other Aurors, including Moody, Marion, and Marius. However, there were more bodies of dead Aurors lying around them, and it looked like that they were not going to hold the line that they had made against the advancing Death Eaters.

So far, there had been no sign of the Black Queen, but Harry had a feeling that he was here, watching the battle. A feeling within him told him that his counterpart was here and judging by how afraid the townspeople were, he could guess that the Black Queen was using whatever Dreamer powers he had at his disposal.

Just as suddenly, as if summoned by his own thoughts, there was a swirl of inky black that turned into a brief miniature tornado in the middle of the town square before the whirl of black materialized and Harry felt his breath hitch as he saw his counterpart step lightly to the ground, a sinister smile on his face. He was dressed in rather plain robes, black colored, yet those robes seemed to suck the very light out of the air, plunging the whole battlefield that was Hogsmeade into an eerie dusky-grey color.

Immediately Harry saw Ginny and Neville turn from their current opponents, finishing them off with seemingly the barest of ease, their Dreamer powers blazing around them in an unearthly halo-like glow. They faced the Black Queen as the other Death Eaters stopped their attacks and retreated slightly, most of them bowing to the Black Queen as he flourished his wand, his sinister smile growing just a bit wider.

“ _Stupefy!_ ” he suddenly heard his father shout to his right and saw the blazing jet of red light immediately hit one of the Death Eaters who had been distracted by the Black Queen’s presence.

That spurred everyone on and Harry leapt from his cover, pointing his wand at several of the Death Eaters who couldn’t react fast enough. “ _Stupefy! Expelliarmus! Reducto!_ ”

Three Death Eaters fell to the ground before he ducked into another rock wall cover, sliding to a stop next to Moody who had a grim smile on his face. He winced as several shards of rock exploded above his head, sending a shower of debris down his face, a few sharp rocks cutting into his head. His and James’ actions had goaded the Death Eaters once more as both sides renewed their efforts to kill as many of the others on the opposite side.

Harry could hear Ginny and Neville starting their furious fight against the Black Queen. They needed help, especially since they were so exposed to back attacks by the other Death Eaters. Merlin had not given him any advice as to access his own Dreamer powers other than the usual cryptic words that he must discover on his own how to unlock it.

Harry popped his head up to fire off a spell at a Death Eater, “ _Impedimenta!”_ Squatting back down into cover, he closed his eyes for a moment, feeling Merlin’s power pulsate through him, adding to his repertoire of spells that he had at his disposal. Picking another one out, he stood up once more and fired it off, “ _Coronum Maximus!_ ” The spell was normally used against Faydes, having the destructive power to obliterate them, but he fired it towards one of the rock walls he knew had a bunch of the Death Eaters hidden within and saw it impact the wall, sending a huge fireball into the air along with the bodies of hapless Death Eaters caught in that explosion.

“Nice one,” Moody growled out before firing several spells of his own.

Harry nearly balked at the praise, blinking his surprise at Moody’s words. Of all of the years that he had known the cantankerous old Auror, even in the moments before his death a year ago, he had never heard a word of praise from him, just either the droning of “Constant Vigilance!” or something to that matter.

However, his surprise did not last as long as suddenly he heard a shout from Ron, echoed by Hermione and peered out of his cover. Dread filled him as he saw Neville collapse to the ground, not by one of the Black Queen’s spells, but rather, the light blue glow that surrounded him, defining his Dreamer powers just cut like a light being turned off. “Na-“ Harry felt his voice influenced by Merlin’s own powers but never got to finish speaking his name as he saw Neville suddenly twitching and convulsing on the ground.

Ginny immediately moved over to step in front of Neville, shielding him with her body, wand held aloft in front of the Black Queen who had a perplexed look on his face before his sinister smile returned and he resumed his attack. Harry could instantly see that she was faltering under his relentless attack, even with Selwyn helping her out and made a move to help her, but a hand grabbing onto his arm stopped him and he looked back at see Moody shaking his head at him.

“Reckless charges into the heat of battle is what gets you killed boy. You may be young, may have faced Queen Mab in the past, but the stakes are different,” the Auror growled out.

“I don’t care,” Harry yanked his arm out of Moody’s grasp and gripped his wand tightly, “Selwyn needs my help and I’m going to give it.” Stepping out of the cover of the rock wall, he pointed his wand at Ginny, “ _Protego!_ ” Immediately the bluish hue of a shield appeared in front of her, reflecting the spell that the Black Queen had thrown at her with a gong-like noise.

However, it had also gotten the attention of his counterpart who turned, almost languidly and at once, he felt the Dreamer powers within him pulsate to try to push away the sudden spike of fear that rushed through him. Grimacing, he stood his ground, all sounds of the battle raging around him fading away as he focused all of his efforts into just keeping himself up. The trickle of fear and realization that this world’s Harry Potter, even twisted, was much more powerful than he was cracked some of the confidence he had held before in hoping to save his counterpart.

“I was wondering when you were going to show up, _Merlin_ ,” the Black Queen sneered conversationally.

Harry braced himself as he held his wand aloft, ready to duel this world’s Harry Potter.


	19. Welcome to Purgatorio

It took all of Harry’s willpower and even from Merlin’s added help to not buckle and fall to the ground, cowering in fear. If this was the power of the Heir to Fears, then what chance did he have against such overwhelming magical and psychological might? Had he gone in over his head when he said he was going to save this world’s Harry Potter?

He held his wand aloft, feeling the pulsating power through its Phoenix-feathered core and kept his focus on it, instead of letting his mind wander to the other possibilities and the fear that he was going to fail in his goal. He had to prove it, not only to the others, but to himself, that he could save his counterpart. The monumental task ahead of him stood like a gigantic monolith.

“Surrender,” he managed to get out, gripping his wand tightly as he faced the Black Queen.

He could literally see the swirl of power around him, the malicious gleam in his emerald-green eyes, half-hidden by the same round glasses he wore perched on his nose. Merlin’s own Dreamer distortion of his features protected him from being identified as Harry Potter by his allies and his friends, but judging from what he knew of yesterday’s confrontation, the Black Queen could easily see through his added magical disguise.

“Surrender?” the Black Queen looked mildly surprised before laughing, a harsh sound that grated against his ears. Harry didn’t know that he could even produce such a sound. “You who are just barely standing there, telling me to surrender?”

“This isn’t you! I know it isn’t,” he replied, staring at him carefully. He did not know what kind of tricks his counterpart was taught in this world, having been stolen from his family nearly seventeen years ago, but based on his most recent experience with Voldemort, it seemed that this world’s Harry Potter liked to make grand gestures and speeches; or at least use the powers he had as an Heir to Fears to cow everyone into submission.

“And what,” a knowing smirk appeared on the Black Queen’s face, “would you know about me?” He waved his arm once and Harry immediately threw up a defensive shield, but saw that the spell was not aimed at him and instead, hit one of the houses in Hogsmeade, instantly blowing up in a mushroom cloud-like fireball.

Harry watched in horror as he saw more than one body fly through the air before turning his gaze back to the Black Queen, appalled.

“Did you know that I was left to die in the cold fall evening of All Hallows Eve?” the Black Queen started conversationally, “that I was raised, knowing that my parents abandoned me-”

“Lily and James Potter didn't abandon you!” Harry interrupted him, for the first time wondering if he was getting in over his head when he said that he would save this world's Harry Potter, to turn him from the opposing Dreamer side to become the true Heir of Hopes. “They...” he hesitated, wondering how much should he tell. While only his father, Sirius, Remus, and Dumbledore knew of his true identity, he did not want the other Aurors to find out who he really was and face the possibility of being ostracized from the rogue Ministry.

“They were willing to sacrifice their lives for your safety!”

“Really,” the Black Queen looked skeptically at him before flicking his wand at another house, blowing it up in spectacular fashion.

“Stop it!” Harry felt Merlin aiding him in trying not to succumb to the Black Queen's powers, but he could not help but feel trickles of fear run through him. He was afraid that he would fail, that his friends would die in this godforsaken place. Afraid for his parents, of watching them die again-

 _You need to concentrate! Stop these negative thoughts!_ Merlin's mental shout seemingly echoed from far away. He shivered, his thoughts sinking deeper into despair. It was like that time when Sirius, Hermione and he had faced so many Dementors, all of them ready to swoop down to suck his soul out.

“ _Hermione, think of something happy!” Harry yelled, raising his wand, blinking furious to try and clear his vision, shaking his head to rid it of the faint screaming that had started inside it-_

I’m going to live with my godfather. I’m leaving the Dursleys.

 _He forced himself to think of Black, and only Black, and began to chant: “_ Expecto patronum! Expecto patronum! _”_

_Black gave a shudder, rolled over, and lay motionless on the ground, pale as death._

_He’ll be all right. I’m going to go and live with him._

“Expecto patronum! _Hermione, help me!_ Expecto patronum! _”_

“Expecto- _“ Hermione whispered, “_ expecto– expecto- _“_

_But she couldn’t do it…_

_Neither could I at that time…_ he thought he heard Merlin’s pained whisper or was it his own, he could not comprehend. Harry bit his lip, trying to focus on something other than that terrible night he had almost lost Sirius. Sirius survived, Hermione, Ron survived, and he survived.

But Sirius died, later in his fifth year; when he so foolishly believed Voldemort’s manipulative visions. He could still see the shocked smile on his face, falling through the Veil-

“ _Does it hurt?”_

_The childish question had fallen from Harry’s lips before he could stop it._

“ _Dying? Not at all,” said Sirius. “Quicker and easier than falling asleep.”_

Sirius was the one who told him these reassuring words when he had gone to face Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest. He did not fear death. He had mastered and embraced it and his love for everyone had destroyed Voldemort.

“ _You’ve been so brave.”_

The first words he had ever heard from her, _priori incantatem_ not withstanding…

Harry twitched as if he was jolted suddenly and looked around him. Gone was the image of Hogsmeade under attack and surrounding him was a seemingly murky black whirlwind. He shivered again as he saw his breath crystallize in the freezing, cold air around him. However, there seemed to be no wind at, yet he felt so cold at the same time. _Merlin?_ He queried silently to the Dreamer in him, _where are we?_

 _C-Cold, can't, Morgana...please, don't hurt them..._ he barely heard the faint pained reply from the Dreamer avatar within him. _Don't..._

 _Merlin!_ He could feel the connection strengthen only slightly as the Dreamer shook himself out of whatever funk he had fallen in.

 _Sorry, I...didn't know what happened there_ ; he heard the comforting reply before shaking his head at the mental apology.

“No need to apologize; it was my fault,” he said out loud, seeing puffs of steam emerge from his own lips. “What's going on here?”

 _A vortex of your fears, trapping you within_ , Merlin showed him the brief image of his fight with Queen Mab, the original Dreamer of Fears before Morgana took up her mantle. She had trapped him in a spell such as this during one of his clashes with her.

“So how do we get out of here?” he wondered out loud just as he thought he heard an echoing laughter, rippling across the inky black whirlwind. Looking around him for any way to break free, he tried to lift his wand, but was unable to even move a hand. Glancing down, he saw that his body was as stiff as a board, his hands and wand held in it seemingly frozen to his side.

The sinister laugh rippled across the whirlwind once more and Harry glared at nothing in particular. That had to be the Black Queen, he was sure of it. He was stuck in here, wherever here was, while the Black Queen had to be hurting more innocents and his friends outside. He needed to get out…but how? “Merlin! How do we get out of here?”

There was silence on the end and he concentrated on the Dreamer within him, but got no reply in return. “Great,” Harry muttered to himself, wondering if the Dreamer had succumbed to his fears once more. He could feel the cold creeping across him, making him shiver, but refused to bow to its wishes, knowing that somehow, it was part of the manipulation of his emotions in this inky whirlwind.

He could not lift his wand, no matter how hard he tried to will his arms to move. He knew that he had cast a few wandless spells, but even that was nearly impossible. No! It was not impossible! He could not think in those terms! Nothing was impossible; he needed to believe, not fall to the fear that he could not do it. _I believe I can do it_ , he thought furiously.

The only spell he could think of to try to at least dissipate this…whirlwind prison was _finite incantatem_.

“ _Finite incantatem!_ ” he shouted, mentally making the wand movements in his head, but nothing happened.

“ _Finite incantatem!_ ”

Nothing.

Harry breathed out another chilled breath before squaring his shoulders and concentrated. He believed he could do it, with all of his fibrous being. He believed he could save his friends, and save the Black Queen. He believed that this world, though on the brink of despair, would be able to rally themselves and defeat Grindelwald and Voldemort.

_Because in the direst of straits, hope is but candle._

Fire, that was what was needed. Warmth to counteract the chill; the burning whirlwind of fire to cleanse the area and a rebirth from the ashes left behind. Because hope was candle, it could be lit again and again…

He could give hope- no- he _would_ give hope.

“ _FINITE INCANTATEM!_ ”

Harry could feel the power surge through him as his wandless spell created a counter vortex within, smashing against the inky and murky black whirlwind of his own fear, erasing it in a spectacular fashion. The bright white light nearly blinded him, but through a tunnel of sorts, he saw the Black Queen throw up his arm, shielding his eyes from the explosion of light created by his spell dissipating his own and Harry took advantage of his momentary distraction.

He reached out; his hands freed from their frozen prison and batted aside the Black Queen’s wand arm. Using the years of Quidditch training he had, he shoved his shoulder into his counterpart’s own and knocked him swiftly to the ground. The startled cry from his counterpart’s own lips was foreign, but Harry pressed forward, pointing his wand down upon the Black Queen’s form as the bright light faded away, revealing that he was still within Hogsmeade with at least several more houses blown up and more bodies on the ground.

“Yield!” Harry heard Merlin’s words merge with his own as he stared fiercely down at the Black Queen who glared up at him, those same emerald green eyes haughty and furious.

He could feel the eyes of both the Death Eaters and the Hogwarts defenders upon him, but dared not risk a look back in case the Black Queen had any tricks up his sleeve. “Yield,” he repeated, Merlin’s influence still coloring his words. Where did the Dreamer go when he had spent those few moments in the vortex trying to find a way out, he did not know, but decided it was a thought for later.

“Clever _Merlin_ ,” the Black Queen deliberately emphasized the name he had taken in this world, “very clever indeed.”

“Yield and you will be shown mercy,” he ignored his counterpart’s taunts.

There was a moment’s pause before he saw the Black Queen’s lips curl into a disturbing smile. He immediately felt Merlin reinforce his newly made defenses, keeping the flicker of Hope’s power strong within him. He could beat him, change him from his ways, he felt the mental mantra repeat in his head.

“You really think it is that easy, do you?” the Black Queen said softly and acted.

However, Harry was expecting a magical attack from him, not a physical one and leapt back just as a knife was thrown towards him. He lifted up his left arm in an attempt to ward it away and felt the blade cut into his arm before falling to the ground. At the same time, he heard the distinct pop of the Black Queen Apparating away from the battlefield followed by several others as the Death Eaters followed their master.

“Merlin!” he saw his friends running towards him. Cradling his injured arm, he waved to them to reassure them that he was all right.

Catching his father’s eye, he saw him stop abruptly and turn away before shouting to the other Aurors to help the survivors of the attack. Mad-Eye and Crouch Jr. followed his lead, ordering their own Aurors to do the same just as his friends surrounded him.

“You all right?” Ron clapped him on the shoulder as he examined the wound he had gotten from the knife.

“Yeah,” Harry put his wand away as he rotated his left arm back and forth; wincing slightly as he felt the wound pull a bit, blood leaking out, but not at an incredible rate. It was a shallow wound, the dagger not expertly thrown, but rather thrown to distract him.

“Should get that looked at,” Ron continued as Ginny knelt down on the ground and picked up the silver knife gingerly, “see if it’s poisoned or anything.”

“I feel fine,” he didn’t feel dizzy or short of breath.

“Still-“

“Wait a second,” Harry had spotted the knife in Ginny’s hand and took it from her, turning it over in his hands, “I know this knife…”

“Merlin?” Ginny sounded confused.

She _was supporting Hermione, who seemed to be unconscious, and was holding her short silver knife to Hermione’s throat…_

 _As he turned into darkness he caught one last view of the drawing room: of the pale, frozen figures of Narcissa and Draco, of the streak of red that was Ron’s hair, and a blur of flying silver, as_ her _knife flew across the room at the place where he was vanishing-_

_He stretched out a hand and pulled the sharp blade from the elf’s body…_

“Bellatrix’s knife,” he whispered, remembering Dobby’s lifeless eyes, the spreading stain of blood across his pillowcase shirt.

“Why would he have her knife?”

Harry shook his head absently before giving it back to Ginny, “Here, I don’t want it. Throw it away if you want.”

“Not yet, Merlin, we need to make sure it’s not poisoned,” Ginny looked at him grimly, “come on, we should get you back to the castle and have Madam Pomfrey look at your arm.”

“I’m fine,” he huffed out, “it’s not even a serious injury.”

“Lady Selwyn has a point, Merlin, we don’t know if that knife has a poisoned blade or not. The battle has been finished; Mad-Eye and Crouch Jr. will take care of cleaning up Hogsmeade and helping the survivors. All of you need your rest,” Remus’ kind voice made them turn to see him approaching them. Beyond him, Harry was surprised to see Dumbledore directing the Aurors this way and that, having taken over for James. He had not seen the Headmaster enter the battlefield during his fight with the Black Queen.

His father though, was no where to be seen, neither was Sirius.

“James and Sirius took a group of Aurors to search and secure the area,” the werewolf reassured them, “they are fine. All of you saved a lot of people today. If you had not intervened the casualties would have been far worst.”

“There are still casualties,” Ron looked away, Godric coloring his words to emphasize his discomfort of the recent battle.

“And there will be in war,” Remus replied patiently, “but take the victory for what it is, and know that we have seen far worst from the Black Queen.”

“Thought you said you were going to turn him back to us,” a new voice intruded on their conversation and they all saw Crouch Jr. approaching them, his lips curled up in disgust, “what happened to that bravado, _Merlin_?”

“Hey-“

“I did not say it would be in one fell swoop, did I?” Harry countered, Merlin shaping his words to sound a lot more polite than he had intended. He mentally glared at the Dreamer within him, but received a chiding shrug in return. He wanted nothing more than to hex the man to oblivion for what he had done to him in his world. At least the Crouch Jr. in his world was nothing but an empty shell of a person, having been Kissed by Dementors.

For this Crouch Jr., he did not know where his loyalties were, and that made him completely unpredictable in Harry’s opinion. He still believed that Crouch Jr. was more than likely a Death Eater spy within Dumbledore’s ranks, and had even cautioned the Headmaster to his possible intentions, but it seemed like nothing had happened. That could only mean two things, either Crouch Jr. was truly not a Death Eater, or Dumbledore had not heeded his warning; the latter of the two far more unlikely.

“It’s a process, you know,” Ron stepped in front of him, bringing Crouch Jr.’s gaze upon him, “and it will take time. We aren’t exactly saints here. And we’re learning as we go along. So give us a break.”

“I’ll give you a break when bodies don’t pile up!” the Auror shouted.

“You bloody ignorant-“

“Gentlemen, please!” for a brief moment Harry saw Remus’ eyes flash with the power of Temperance as he forcibly shoved both Ron and Crouch Jr. back from each other, “Crouch, see to the survivors.”

Harry saw that the Auror was about to protest before spinning on his heel and stalking away, pouring his anger at a junior Auror who had run up to ask him a question. Remus’ quick sigh of either relief or anger made him turn back again to see his former professor mutter something under his breath before gesturing for them to follow him back to the castle.

“Please, don’t provoke him again,” he warned them as they followed.

“Why not? He’s a Death Eater in our world. Should be in Azkaban or something for what he’s done,” Ron shook his head, annoyed.

“I know,” Remus replied, his voice tight.

“Wait, what?!” Hermione’s exclamation echoed Harry’s own as they stared at the resident werewolf in shock.

Remus paused halfway up a small hill, and looked back at them. “We know Crouch Jr. is a Death Eater spy within our ranks. But Minister Dumbledore believes that he is still very useful in his capacity as both an Auror and a spy. Until he acts out of line, say like hexing one of our own, we are to treat him like an ally.”

“That’s-“

“You can’t be serious-“

“Those are his orders,” Remus sounded a bit resigned, if not angry and for the first time Harry wondered why he even followed Dumbledore’s orders, especially as crazy as this one.

“Come on, this is no place for a discussion like that,” he abruptly turned back around and continued back to Hogwarts, the five of them trailing silently in his wake.

* * *

Harry had been given a clean bill of health and stitches before being sent up to the Room of Requirement to sleep, along with the rest of his friends. Madam Pomfrey had then given explicit instructions to Dumbledore and everyone else not to bother them, even if Voldemort himself were to attack within the next twenty-four hours or so. Harry had whispered to Sirius to pass along the word as they made their way up to the Room to call them should anything like that happen. A grin had formed on his godfather’s face before he nodded and headed back down to the Great Hall where the injured from Hogsmeade were staying for the moment.

The five of them turned in for the rest of the day, aided by sleeping drafts given to them by Madam Pomfrey to calm their nerves so they could at least get some restful sleep. He knew that they all wanted to disobey her order, but even Harry could not deny that the Pepper-Up/coffee potion that had been given to him during breakfast several hours ago was already losing its potency and the full forcing of being up for so long, combined with the waning adrenaline rush from battle, was making him extremely tired.

It was not a surprise then, that as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was fast asleep, exhaustion finally taken over him. However, what was a surprise was that he found himself immersed in a seemingly murky view of things, the sounds coming to him as if down a long tunnel…

“You could have killed him,” his voice was raspy, deep, but he could not see the speaker’s face only the fuzzy image of what looked like dark stonework.

“I merely decided to test him,” was the reply, and it sounded a lot like his own voice. With a start, he realized that he was linked to this world’s Harry Potter somehow and was seeing through his eyes.

“You decided?”

“Per your wishes, Lord Grindelwald.”

“Ah yes, I do believe I did ask you to observe our newcomers…” the raspy voice of Grindelwald sounded thoughtful, “tell me, was this attack and the loss of over fifteen Death Eaters part of that observation?”

“Yes.”

“And you take full responsibility for the deaths of fifteen perfectly capable Death Eaters?”

“If they were capable, then they would still be alive, milord.”

“Ha! Indeed they would be,” Grindelwald sounded pleased, “and what did you learn from these…Knights of Merlin?”

“They are who they claim to be, as far as my powers were able to discern,” he saw the stonework move as his counterpart’s gaze tracked upwards, first past a pair of shiny black boots then the hem of a very elegantly cut robe and finally to a withered, but still handsome old face that had seemingly the kindest of sparkling blue eyes, almost like Dumbledore’s he realized.

Those blue eyes seemingly flickered with a hidden power and for a split second, Harry thought he had been spotted, riding upon his counterpart’s consciousness, before he realized Grindelwald was applying Legilimency upon him to discern the truth. Belatedly he also realized that the Black Queen had flat out lied about who they were; which meant that he truly did know their real personas. Whether or not he knew their purpose here was another question, but he could not ask at the moment.

“I see the truth in your words,” Grindelwald nodded after a moment and Harry saw his vision nod up and down. His counterpart had _mastered_ Occlumency where he had failed and he instantly knew the reason why. Devoid of emotions, raised by Death Eaters, perhaps even taught by Voldemort or Snape whenever serving in his spy capacity amongst the Death Eaters, this world’s Harry Potter had the perfect mentality to learn something that even he could not learn.

But the real question now was why did his counterpart lie to this world’s Dark Lord, his lord and master for that matter? This world’s Harry Potter was truly evil, manipulative, and powerful, so why would he lie? Harry himself had promised to save his counterpart in this world, to turn him from the Heir of Fears into the Heir of Hopes, if only for himself to return back to his own world. Was it because of some notion that the Black Queen wanted to protect them? He hardly thought it the case – it had to be something else, something not yet revealed.

“Tell me,” Grindelwald languished in his chair, a throne room-like setting for the one called the Dark Lord in this world, “they are full fledged Dreamers? Reborn in this world?”

“No, milord,” his counterpart shook his head, “I sensed that they were not part of this world. I ask permission to consult the Weavers for their origins, but it is my belief that they are displaced in time.”

“And killing them may change history…” Grindelwald looked shrewd.

“Perhaps, but we do not know that. For all we know they could be here to make sure that the fool of a Minister receives his new Dreamers before they leave,” the Black Queen countered.

“ _That_ , must not be allowed to happen,” the Dark Lord shot to his feet.

“As you wish, milord,” his gaze dropped to the floor once more before rising back up, “I believe to press our attack at the moment would be ill advised.”

“Why?”

“Since their arrival, our spies have reported an increase in morale amongst those that follow the false Minister. I believe right now would be the time to gather what information we can, exploit them and then press an attack.”

“You speak of valid points, my Black Queen. Tell me, do you always presume to suggest such statements as if you were the Dark Lord?”

“I only presume such status conferred upon me when my ascension from Heir to full Dreamer occurs,” Harry balked at the oily, manipulative way his counterpart was speaking. Never in his lifetime had he imagined such words coming from his own mouth.

“And it shall happen, but patience, my Heir, patience. You have done well,” Grindelwald looked pleased and Harry found his vision dipping to the stonework once more before he turned and walked away, brushing past the crowd of Death Eaters that had watched their conversation with something akin to breathless anticipation.

Harry felt sick and disgusted at what he was seeing, but could not do anything to pull himself out of his counterpart’s mind-

“Voldemort,” his counterpart spoke up, tone mild and Harry saw through his eyes that indeed, it was Voldemort, still snake-like and pale, walk up to him, his face expressionless.

“Potter,” the man replied in the same tone.

Harry watched as the two of them passed by each other, his counterpart’s gaze focused on a set of double doors lit by torch lights before he could feel the cold, bony grasp of Voldemort’s hand upon his own, pulling him to a stop and making him turn back around to face those red eyes-

“Remember your place, Black _Queen_ ,” Voldemort hissed.

His counterpart shook his hand out of the bony grip and Harry could _feel_ the dark mirth within him. “Just because you trained me and marked me as a Horcrux not mean I cannot win favor with the Dark Lord.”

“Where did you learn about that?!”

“I can _read_ , Voldemort,” his counterpart sneered sarcastically.

“Impudent little brat-“

“I am his Heir, and you would do well to remember that,” he saw him raise a hand to seemingly ward off an attack, “Black _King_.”

“This is not over,” Voldemort looked furious.

“It never is,” was the parting shot before he turned around and continued to walk towards the double wooden doors and opened it.

Harry wondered what was that all about as he saw a set of stairs in his murky vision to which the Black Queen ascended upwards. Several more corridors were taken before he stopped by an ordinary looking wooden door and knocked on it twice.

“Enter,” was the feminine reply.

From his murky gaze riding upon his counterpart’s consciousness, he was able to make out that the room had a homey look, but was liberally covered in cobwebs, as if the owner had forgotten to dust on more than one occasion.

“Where is that stupid elf, Kreacher?”

“I sent him back to Grimmauld place pack up the rest of the belongings and to destroy any remnants of the house. It will take months,” her voice was neither screechy nor insane sounding as he had heard many times since Sirius’ death, but rather, sounded almost like a cross between Narcissa Malfoy’s and Andromeda Tonks’.

“That explains the cobwebs,” was the dry reply from his counterpart as he fingered a particular nasty bunch, releasing a few spiders that went scurrying this way and that to find another hiding spot.

“Oh, don’t disturb them, Harry. I don’t want to find them in my bed again,” this time her voice was muffled as if she was looking for something.

“Then cast a spell,” was the simple reply.

“I don’t feel like it,” the childish voice was closer to the screechy one Harry was used to hearing before a bark of triumph emerged and he got his first look at Bellatrix Lestrange of this world who came rushing towards his counterpart, a full smile on her ruby red lips, her heavy-lidded eyes bright and merry.

Without the gaunt haggard look of Azkaban framing her, Harry realized that she looked a lot like her sisters Narcissa and Andromeda. He recoiled in disgust as he saw his counterpart sweep her up in a warm embrace before releasing her.

“It is good to see you Aunt Bella,” the Black Queen sounded pleased, and to Harry’s shock, happy.

“As your godmother and the one who raised you, I do hope so,” she replied, holding him at arms length, looking at him up and down, “my, my, how much you have grown.”

“How was your mission to Albania?”

“Boring,” it was so hard to keep the hatred he felt for Bellatrix tampered down. She was the one who killed Sirius, who taunted him and sent him into the Veil. Even though she had died in the battle for Hogwarts, he still could feel the fiery anger within him.

Biting his lip, he tried to pull himself away from this sick farce. He didn’t want to know anymore of the twisted familial relationship his counterpart had with Bellatrix Lestrange. He needed to get out to-

Harry abruptly found himself staring up at the ceiling of his four-poster bed, his breath coming in great gasps. Sweat poured down his face and he could feel his heart racing…

“Oh no, it’s happening again, isn’t it?” Hermione’s whisper came from his left and he saw her sitting up from her bed, her covers pooled across her lap.

“He’s seeing Voldemort’s visions again-“

“No,” Harry croaked out, pulling himself upright and jamming on his glasses, “no…no pain in my scar.” He rubbed the lightning bolt scar on his forehead, noting that it felt cool to his touch, unlike the times when he had seen and felt what Voldemort had experienced – the hot prickly feeling-

“I just saw through my other self’s own eyes…like I was there,” he drew in a shuddering breath, trying to calm his racing heart and the slight headache he had when he woke up so abruptly.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Harry flopped back down onto his bed again, pulling his glasses off and putting it on the small end table next to his bed, “it’s probably nothing.”

“Harry-“

“I’ll tell you later, okay?” he looked at Ron who was about to protest before nodding and pulling the covers back over himself.

“All right mate, I’ll hold you to that,” his best friend gave him a crooked grin before turning over and going back to sleep.

“Yeah,” Harry pulled his own covers back onto himself and closed his eyes, hoping that he didn’t share another vision with his counterpart as he fell back asleep once more. He knew that he would have to sort out what he had seen in the morning, but right now, he wanted at least a moment of peace.


	20. The Dreamer of Justice

Over the next few days, Harry had explained to his friends and to Sirius, James, and Remus what he had seen in his sleep and Sirius had explained that it was vital information. However, he cautioned that no one else know about this and Harry was more than happy to keep it that way. Somehow, he felt that he did not want to tell Dumbledore, but then again the Minister had been extremely busy over the past few days helping Hogsmeade rebuild.

He and his friends had helped out wherever they were needed, but it seemed that the residents of the village were resigned to rebuilding every so often. That had struck a chord within him as he had realized that Grindelwald and Voldemort had attacked this place so often, not because of any importance, but rather to drive the citizens into a frenzy of living in constant fear.

However, the only member of their group that had not been able to help was Neville, having taken ill the day after the battle had been concluded. His fits were getting worst and even Madam Pomfrey could do little to ease his pain. Of the five of them, only Remus knew what was really happening to Neville and had asked Dumbledore to recall this world’s Neville Longbottom from whatever mission he had been sent on with Professor Sprout. However, Harry was glad that Remus had been discreet as to the reason why, giving the headmaster a vague explanation that it was because Nathan Hufflepuff wanted to choose a new successor before his fits of entropic cascade failure got worst.

However, he suspected Dumbledore might have figured out the reasoning, since the headmaster knew who they really were and had done as Remus had asked the earliest of convenience. Harry had been getting his bandages removed on his injured arm, the cut having healed using conventional means instead of magic for the fear that there was a potential hidden hex that Madam Pomfrey had not noticed, when the doors to the medical wing opened and a tall man walked through, his robes billowing behind him.

It took a few seconds for Harry to recognize that this was this world’s Neville Longbottom and was surprised at how different he looked from the Neville lying on the bed. This world’s Neville was strongly built, no ounce of fat or pudginess that belied his graceful stride. A well-groomed beard lined his face offsetting his severe, hard eyes. This was a Neville who had seen far more battles and the grimness of the never ending war in this world than his own.

Yet as he passed by him without even looking at him, Harry saw that those eyes still held the same kindness, the same Gryffindor traits that defined his world’s Neville Longbottom. He watched as this world’s Neville stop next to his Neville’s bed, an unreadable expression on his face before glancing over to them.

“Is Lord Hufflepuff well enough to converse? The message given to me in the Cardiff front lines said to make haste with all urgency,” Neville asked his voice strong, much like how Harry remembered hearing it during his world’s final battle against Voldemort, when Neville had broken through Voldemort’s silencing spell and rallied the others.

“Give me a moment, dear,” Madam Pomfrey finished wrapping his new bandage before bustling over to where Neville was lying and gently woke him up. Harry glanced over to this world’s Neville to see him eyeing him as he hopped off of the examination table and went over to his friend’s bed, hoping that his physical presence would be somewhat of a support to his own Neville.

Whenever Neville was not having a fit, he had been either sleeping or heavily medicated against the pain so talking with him was strained at best. He knew that his time was fast approaching and each of them had taken time during the days to stay with him, hoping that this world’s Neville would arrive soon. Dumbledore had cautioned that he did not know how long it would take this world’s Neville to respond to the message, stating that he had been deployed to the front lines of Cardiff. It was where those who had fled London after the Dark Lord had taken over. It was one of the few strongholds outside of Hogsmeade and Hogwarts that was considered a safe haven against the Dark Lord and his forces.

However, in the ten years since London fell, the Dark Lord had turned his attention to the little areas of resistance, battering them constantly in guerilla warfare when he was not occupied with attacking Hogsmeade. The Headmaster had said it was only through the saving grace of the Dark Lord wanting some semblance of government after taking over the Ministry that his raids against the small enclaves of resistance were few and far in-between, occurring perhaps twice or three times a year to certain places.

The corner of his lips twitched up in a hesitant smile as he saw Neville come around, slowly blinking his eyes open. However, that smile died as soon as he saw the amount of pain in them. “Hey,” he whispered as Neville’s eyes tracked across the room before resting on him and his friend smiled slightly, unable to keep the pain from appearing on his features.

“Harry…” Neville breathed out and Harry looked at Madam Pomfrey who had retreated slightly to see if she had heard his name spoke, but she gave no indication and in fact, was actually smiling kindly down at him.

He felt a moment’s panic well in him, echoed by Merlin who stirred, having altered his appearance when he had been getting his arm re-bandaged.

“She knows…” Neville’s voice was hoarse and strained, his words coming out in a mere whisper, “had to…tell her when…Nathan…” He gestured weakly to the air around him and Harry realized that the Dreamer within Neville had to stop using his power just to help keep his friend alive before this world’s Neville arrived. As a result, Neville’s appearance had not been altered and Madam Pomfrey must have found out sometime during the days he was here.

“He told me a little about you too,” Madam Pomfrey spoke up quietly, checking his vitals before tapping her wand on some of the instrumentations. “I still don’t see the resemblance…”

“Merlin is still altering my appearance,” he replied before glancing over to this world’s Neville who looked a bit uncomfortable, staring at nothing in particular.

“Ah,” Neville spoke up from his bed, bringing his counterpart’s gaze on him, “you…look…well, like me.”

“I could say the same,” this world’s Neville Longbottom had the same exact voice, but it seemed that his words were a little stronger. “Why do you look like me?”

“Not really like you,” his Neville chuckled weakly, “he looks a little more heroic.”

“You’re still a Gryffindor,” even though Harry had been roommates with Neville for all of his years at Hogwarts, he had never really known the fellow Gryffindor. Occasionally, there were the moments of pride and of bravery that he had come to know from the former accident-prone young man, but he had never known Neville to have a streak of humor. Maybe it had developed during his absence for his seventh year? Considering the circumstances where he had found Neville, hiding in the Room of Requirement that could be the truth.

Neville nodded before looking back at his counterpart who had walked to the foot of his bed and was staring at the two of them, assessing them. If this was who Neville could have become of his parents had not been in St. Mungos, Harry had to admit, he would have been a formidable wizard indeed; not that his own world’s Neville wasn’t formidable. He could see why Neville was so drawn to Alice and Frank Longbottom in this world; he wanted to draw on their strengths and to see who his parents really were.

“Nathan…sorry, the Dreamer of Justice wants to know what have you discovered within yourself since being assigned to Cardiff after graduation,” Neville asked.

“A sense of purpose,” this world’s Neville replied, “to defeat the evil-“

Neville’s eyes suddenly flickered before Nathan Hufflepuff’s modulated tones emerged from his lips, though still sounding breathy and weak. “You misunderstand the question, young man. That is the physical purpose you strive for, but what do you strive within yourself?”

Neville frowned, thinking hard before opening his mouth. “Safety. I want my family to be safe. My mum, dad, Gran, even my fiancée Susan. I am willing to sacrifice myself to stop Grindelwald and Voldemort, but I’m also afraid of dying. I don’t want to die in vain and I don’t want to die knowing that I couldn’t protect those I cared about.”

“Do you desire vengeance?” Nathan asked, his tone curious.

“Yes,” Neville replied, “and no. Not like the others. I have never known loss in this war, my family having been one of the lucky ones. And I wish it to keep it that way.”

“A selfish desire…”

“All men are selfish,” Neville shrugged, “something I learned from Dean Thomas. Used to give me some Muggle books to read whenever he had the chance to sneak them into Hogwarts.”

“Is it just to your own family?” Nathan’s voice sounded faint and for a second Harry leaned forward in concern, but the Dreamer turned Neville’s head to look at him and a slight smile appeared on his face, “do not concern yourself, Hopes, it will be over soon.”

“It was when I was first assigned to Cardiff,” Neville tilted his head as he stared at nothing in particular, “but then I realized, it was more than that. I hated what was happening with each Death Eater attack. I wanted some sort of justice for the innocents who wanted nothing of this war. Of even the Muggles who have been attacked. But there are days when the battle stopped and I would walk around the encampment, watching healers frantically try to save lives, watch Muggle doctors apply their skills to save even those who had tried to kill them. I didn’t realize it, but both healers and doctors had sworn an oath to save whoever they could, friend or foe. That was the kind of justice I needed.”

“Then you are ready,” Nathan nodded his head weakly before turning to Harry, “send your patronus now so that the others may convene. Your friends may wish to speak to Neville before he leaves.”

Harry could only nod as he drew out his wand and waved it, “ _Expecto patronum_.” The familiar stag of Prongs burst out from his wand and stared at him before he tried to mentally command it to find his friends, unsure how Kingsley managed to send a message like so with his own patronus during Bill and Fleur’s wedding.

He must have succeeded as the stag bowed its majestic head once before cantering out of the medical wing, passing through the closed doors like it was nothing. At least he hoped that the stag was going to find his friends, not wander aimlessly. He briefly wondered if any of the staff besides his father’s friends knew about the significance of the stag.

“If-“

“When.”

“If,” Neville stressed, staring down at the one lying on the bed, “I accept your powers, will you die?”

“No,” Nathan’s modulated tones faded away, leaving Neville’s voice at a hoarse whisper, “I am going home…”

“And home is?”

“Another world, like this one, but one where we had defeated Voldemort,” the ghost of a smile appeared on his friend’s lips and Harry absently nodded in agreement.

“And Grindelwald?”

“Defeated by Headmaster Dumbledore long ago, before Voldemort rose to power,” Neville replied.

“Sounds like paradise,” this world’s Neville smiled grimly.

“Many were lost in the process, but,” his Neville looked at him and his eyes crinkled as he tried to smile through the pain, “we got them, right?”

“Yeah,” Harry replied before the sound of the doors to the medical wing opening made him turn in his seat to see his friends, Remus, and surprisingly Dumbledore walking through. The faces of other Aurors, his father, Sirius, and Pettigrew peered from the doorway, but they gave no indication that they were coming in, probably having been ordered to stay outside.

“We got your message, Harry,” Ginny spoke up, before clamping a hand over her mouth as she looked towards Madam Pomfrey and this world’s Neville Longbottom.

“Um, she knows,” Harry gestured to Pomfrey before looking at this world’s Neville who had a puzzling look on his face.

“I thought you were Merlin…?” he asked.

“You’ll understand,” his Neville replied weakly from his bed before reaching a trembling hand out towards his counterpart. Harry stood up from his chair and joined his friends as he watched this world’s Neville occupy the space he had been sitting in and grasp his counterpart’s hands.

“Nathan wanted me to tell you that if you plan to abuse this power for your own gain, he will request from the Weavers a dispensation to abandon his duties and return to where he had been waiting,” his Neville stared at the stronger one gripping his hand.

“I understand.”

“Tell Mum and Dad that it was worth the risks to see them again,” Neville looked sad before looking towards his friends, “any message you want me to pass on when I get back?”

“Can you tell Mum not to worry? And that we’re fine?” Ron asked, glancing towards his sister who nodded in agreement.

“I will,” Neville replied before he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

A soft glow enveloped Neville before growing brighter and brighter. Harry squinted and raised a hand to shield his eyes from the glow that surrounded his friend’s bed. He could hear a phantom rushing sound in his ears and shook his head to clear it from his head as the sound grew. Just when it was at the apex, the glow abruptly disappeared and the silence filled the air.

Harry lowered his arm to see that Neville had indeed disappeared, his counterpart still seemingly holding onto nothing but thin air. A few seconds later, this world’s Neville Longbottom shivered as if coming out of a trance before lowering his arm and looking at them. “So it is true, you guys are who you say you are,” he looked at them in wonderment before his eyes track to Harry and he saw him stiffen, reaching into his robes.

Harry immediately felt Merlin going on guard before Neville forced himself to relax and stare at him with a critical eye. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t quite believe…I mean, the others…they’re…but you’re…”

He realized that while the Dreamer of Justice had provided the necessary information for this world’s Neville to see who they truly were, there was still the adjustment that his counterpart was the Black Queen. All of his friends’ counterparts were on Dumbledore’s side, and his was the only one who was with Grindelwald. He should have expected a reaction like this, compared to the mild ones his father, Sirius, and Remus had when he told them who he really was. But then again, out of the three, only Remus seemed to genuinely accept him for who he was. He had been noticing, more so out of his father than any of the others, but his father had been very jumpy around him, as if he could not decide whether or not to trust him.

At least he was thankful that neither Sirius nor James had hexed him yet since finding out that he was Harry Potter, but he wondered how long the goodwill would last; especially since Barty Crouch Jr. had been deriding him for the past few days for not keeping his word to turn the Black Queen to their side, to “save” him. If this was the reaction that the others would give him when finding out his real identity behind his Merlin façade, then he figured he best be used to it. After all, Neville was one of the mildest people he had ever met and if this world’s Neville looked for a second there to hex him, what would stop any of the others, like Ron’s counterpart, or even Ginny’s from hexing him when they found out.

“Did Neville really return to our world?” Ron interrupted the silence that reigned in the room.

This world’s Neville closed his eyes for a second before opening them again and nodded, “The Dreamer of Justice says he did.”

“You mean Nathan Hufflepuff?” Hermione looked puzzled.

“Actually, no,” Neville blinked a bit in confusion, “he…it….doesn’t refer to himself like that. Just…Dreamer of Justice. I thought- oh wait. It says that the one called Nathan Hufflepuff did exist, so long ago, but it was one of many Dreamer of Justice personas it had acquired over the long years. It was used to help maintain the illusion of Merlin and his Knights. It says that now that I have come into my true self, there is no need to maintain the illusion of Nathan Hufflepuff anymore.”

“That is indeed true, Mr. Longbottom,” Dumbledore interrupted their conversation and Harry turned to see the headmaster give them the ghost of a smile, “it is my belief that each of you hold the powers of the Dreamers in trust for the next generation.”

“Great, then let’s find myself, Hermione, Ginny, Harry-oh,” Ron’s words disappeared as he glanced at him and Harry shrugged. He knew his friend meant well by that statement, but he had just reminded everyone that it would be easy to find their counterparts, except for this world’s Harry Potter. “Sorry mate, I, um, forgot…”

“Ron, if it was that easy, we would all be having entropic cascade failures now,” Hermione chided him lightly turning to look at Neville, “how is it that Neville had it before any of us?”

“I’m not quite sure and it’s hard to discern it from what the Dreamer of Justice is telling me,” he tapped his head, “but I was asked what had changed for me since graduation. I don’t really know, but if I could guess, it’s our core beings that were in sync?”

“Core beings?” Ginny, Ron, and Harry looked confused.

“Rowena says that it’s who we truly are on the inside. Not just the traits that make us Gryffindors or whatever house we’re in, but who we really are,” Hermione was the only one that seemed to get it and Harry was just a bit jealous that with her seemingly encyclopedic knowledge, she also had the Dreamer of Wisdom to help her understand a lot more than even he knew.

 _Hey_ , the mental shove from Merlin made him stuff that thought very quietly and deeply into the recesses of his mind.

“But it won’t be easy to change our counterparts,” Ginny murmured and Harry knew that she was thinking of his own counterpart. The Black Queen seemed diametrically opposite of himself, reveling in the suffering of others and the twisted corruption of being raised by Voldemort and Grindelwald, or rather, being raised by Bellatrix Lestrange if his dream had anything to say about that disturbing relationship.

“Look, I’m just going to say it, but what happens if they don’t…change, I guess,” Ron avoided looking at him, “are we stuck here?”

“That I do not know, Mr. Weasley. Did Ignotus and the other Weavers not say anything about this to you?” Dumbledore asked, looking pointedly at Remus who had a mild expression.

“Well…”

“I said I would help my parents win this war,” Harry suddenly did not want Dumbledore to know what was said during their meeting with the Weavers, “I plan to do so.” He did not know why, but a part of him cautioned against revealing too much to the Headmaster.

“Then, as our leader,” the oddest sight Harry had ever seen was Neville bowing his head to him, but then again this world’s Neville Longbottom could have the same ‘core’ as his Neville, yet have different personality on the outside, “it would be best to inform you of my activities of late in Cardiff and the efforts in stopping Voldemort’s forces.”

“Uh…shouldn’t that be Mad-Eye, or even, um, the Headmaster’s judgment?” he waved his hand at Neville who straightened. “And don’t bow to me, it’s…weird.”

“Based on the memories I had received from the Dreamer of Justice, you are Hopes, right? You’re our leader,” Neville grinned and Harry saw a bit of his friend appear, “so it’s natural you lead this new effort.”

Harry blinked once, slowly, as he realized the truth in his words. It was the same thing happening again, the school, teachers, and everyone involved in the war back in his world had looked to him for leadership. He had kept hope alive by avoiding Voldemort’s forces for a long time and even his friends had looked to him for leadership. Now, what Neville was saying was again true, except he now embodied the Dreamer of Hopes, the one that would always lead the other Dreamers in battle against the Seven Sins of Man. He took a deep breath. Was he ready?

 _I will always be here_ , Merlin’s whisper echoed in his head.

Yes, he was ready. Harry nodded and held out his hand to Neville, “Hi, I’m Harry Potter.”

Neville grinned and shook his hand, “I’m Neville Longbottom, the Dreamer of Justice.”

* * *

Neville Longbottom’s acquisition of Nathan Hufflepuff’s Dreamer of Justice powers brought a renewed hope to those who were fighting the war and many of the Aurors in Hogwarts and Hogsmeade were overjoyed to see that the first of the next generation of the Virtues of Man in their own world had taken over the mantle. Though some whispered that they missed Nathan Hufflepuff, having been unable to ask him all the questions the wanted him to answer in the short time he was here, they also understood that Merlin and the rest of his remaining Knights were only there as transitory people. They too had their own war to fight, but were generous enough to stay and help them.

In the month and half following the transfer of Justice’s power, Harry and his friends, still under the guises and illusions of Merlin and his Knights had decided to push out the Death Eaters occupying parts of Cardiff with Neville’s help. The battles that followed were in quick succession, but by mid-August, the Death Eaters had been driven out of Cardiff and Neville had immediately set about reinforcing spells and wards around the city.

Harry and the others had let him be, seeing that he would do better to protect the city than to stay with them at Hogwarts, but Neville had promised to give them updates and to inform them of his progress on this side of the war front. It was on the night of their victory celebration thrown in their honor in the Ronald Dahl Plass that Harry had his second vision of the Black Queen, however, he belated realized that he was still awake...

“ _You have failed me,” the Dark Lord Grindelwald's tone was mild, but everyone could hear the undercurrent of disappointment in them._

_Harry allowed the small hint of a smile appear on his lips as he stood by his side. He could feel the discomfort and anger roiling inside of Voldemort as he stood silently in front of the Dark Lord. Turning his neck slightly as if to relieve some pressure, he quietly banished the presence that was Voldemort inside of him to the side. He did not need the powers of the Horcrux that he was to know that the Black King was in serious disfavor._

“ _Yes, I have failed you,” Voldemort spoke up, his red eyes flicking upwards to face his master, “I was careless in my assignment of Death Eaters to press our advantage.”_

_Harry had to admit this was the answer he had been expecting from the Black King. He had not advance to his position by denying his failures and instead, admitted them readily, but always ended up passing most of the blame to his lieutenants. Then again, the position of Voldemort's lieutenants was always a revolving door. He turned his head slightly to see the Dark Lord nod once, adjusting an ornate ring that was on one of his fingers before clasping his hands together._

“ _And what will you do?”_

“ _The effort to retake the city will be done at a later date, milord,” Voldemort stared at Grindelwald, his face fearless, his tone confident; as if he was truly in charge. Harry immediately understood that Grindelwald was once again allowing the Black King to think that he was in charge, much like giving him the useless title of his position. In a chess piece, a King was only allowed to move one position in any direction for that turn, except when castling. Voldemort was beyond the castling part so in an essence, Grindelwald being the “player” of the pieces, allowed Voldemort to make his one move in any direction he saw fit._

“ _And why do you see this fit?”_

“ _It is of my own plans,” the Black King replied before shooting Harry a quick sardonic look, “I believe that spies may be in our midst and there are those who seek to undermine your glory.”_

_Grindelwald did not miss the quick look between the two of them and adopted a mild expression, “Your rivalries do you credit, however, you truly believe a spy is amongst us?”_

“ _Yes, my faithful lieutenant Severus Snape was able to ferret out a spy amongst our ranks who had betrayed the Cardiff front by giving crucial information to the resistance, enabling the new Dreamer of Justice, Neville Longbottom to achieve his victory,” Voldemort glanced back and gestured towards the sallow, pale-faced man with greasy hair to step forward._

 _Harry stared at the man curiously. He had heard rumors that this man was Lily Potter's lover, and if that was the truth, there was the potential that Snape was not as loyal as he claimed to be. He silently summoned the powers that were vested as an Heir and sent an inquiring tendril towards the man who was now rattling his report to the Dark Lord. It was similar to Legilimency, yet twisted with the power of Fear within. A strong Legilimens user would have to seemingly find the crack within another's thoughts, easiest to find if the person was not strong in Occlumency, to break through, but with his powers, he was able to twist the innate fear that everyone had within themselves and_ make _the crack instead of trying to find one._

_He expected Snape to resist his attempts; everyone did, but was surprised to find that he was able to pass through the man's thoughts. Snape was letting him in, knowing that he would do something like this. A brave move, or a very foolish one, he smiled inwardly. Still, he gave a cursory look, seeing the benign thoughts within. He knew he could push deeper into the man's thoughts, but that would interrupt his speech and he did not want anyone else in the audience to know what he was doing. Still he felt the quiet confidence echoing in the space that he occupied within Snape's mind and nodded mostly to himself._

_The man was certainly confident. Of himself, his powers, he did not know, but it seemed that the lingering echo of the Dreamer of Justice was what bolstered that quiet confidence. Only the other Dreamers and those named Heirs were able to recognize Justice's lingering powers over him. He knew that his lord and master Grindelwald believed Snape to be completely broken from Justice's hold and he would be inclined to believe so, but he kept those doubts to himself. Perhaps in the future Severus Snape would be of use to him._

“ _...your traitor is Hestia Jones,” Harry pulled himself out of Snape's mind as he spoke the name of the traitor in their midst, satisfied with his search. There was no echo of remorse in Snape's thoughts as the crowd parted to reveal the short witch with black hair and pink cheeks._

_Grindelwald sat silently on his chair, staring at Voldemort who gestured rather theatrically to Hestia to step forward. “Don't be shy, Hestia...”_

“ _I am a Death Eater...” the woman's lips trembled with fear and Harry smiled. Her fear was practically fueling the magical charge in the air, and he glanced over to the Dark Lord who had not smiled, but his eyes told another story. He was practically feeding off of her fear to siphon and bolster his own powers as the Dreamer of Fears._

“ _No, my dear, you are a member of the Order of the Ministry and Dumbledore's little spy. I have seen you at the meetings-”_

“ _S-Severus!” Hestia's composure broke as she glared at him, “h-how could you! You...you...traitor!”_

“ _Oh, I only serve the rogue Minister in my capacity to keep him unawares,” Snape had the look of a person who had discovered an annoying bug on his clothes before flicking it off._

“ _You...you...but what about Lily!”_

“ _What about the Mudblood?”_

_Hestia gasped before reaching into her robe-_

_Grindewald stood up and flicked a hand at them and even Harry recoiled at the force of the wandless spell that hit the witch and made her explode. Bits of her body splashed upon those closest to her as they flinched before all eyes turned to Grindelwald who sat back down, the same blank expression on his face. Harry allowed a full smile to appear on his own as he felt the fear bolster his master's powers while transferring the rest to his own._

“ _You have done well, my Black King. Your lieutenant has done well too,” the Dark Lord inclined his head slightly before waving his hand, “let this all be a lesson to you should you feel the need to betray me.”_

_The rest of the Death Eaters twittered amongst themselves as they left the hall, but Harry stayed, watching as the hint of a triumphant smile appeared on his rival's face. Let Voldemort think he had won this round and earned Grindelwald's trust. Let him think that his failure at not holding the Cardiff lines be made up with the death of only one spy amongst so many in their ranks. He knew better and if Snape could be furtheer persuaded to reveal the other spies that were part of the rogue Ministry then he would have the man Voldemort trusted above all others in his own pocket._

“ _Well...my Black Queen?”_

“ _Cardiff will not be easily retaken, milord,” he replied, “There are rumors that the one called Nathan Hufflepuff has returned to his world and time.”_

“ _Those rumors are true. I have spoken to the Weavers and they have confirmed the departure of Nathan Hufflepuff. The new Dreamer of Justice is a young man by the name of Neville Longbottom,” Grindelwald tapped his finger tips together._

“ _I am willing to undertake the mission to assassinate him, if you wish,” Harry replied._

“ _No...not yet. I want him comfortable in his victory,” the Dark Lord replied._

“ _As you wish,” the Black Queen sensed the dismissal in his master’s words before bowing his head. Lifting his head up, the Black Queen suddenly stared straight at Harry seemingly penetrating the layers and layers of fog-like vision between them._

Harry staggered, spilling some of his butterbeer onto the ground as he was jolted back into the present time of his own body. Did the Black Queen just stare at him, knowing that he was looking at them?

“Harry?” they were alone in their own group and Ron had whispered his name as he grabbed onto his arm to steady himself. The sounds of celebration filled the air around him and he shook his head.

“I...just had another vision,” he muttered, rubbing his head to try to get rid of a sudden and swift headache he had. His scar did not prickle, but he felt uneasy.

“Maybe we should go back and see Professor Dumbledore,” Hermione murmured quietly.

“But the party-”

“Harry, if you're having visions, even when awake, this is definitely worst than if you're having visions when you're asleep,” Hermione cut him off, “we can make the excuse that you've had one too many butterbeers...”

“Besides, you kinda spilled some on yourself,” Ron gestured weakly to his clothes and through Harry's hazy vision he did noticed that he spilled some of his drink on himself.

“But Dumbledore-”

“This could be related to your powers as Hopes. You told me that you haven't awakened into them yet so maybe it's related,” Hermione persisted before glancing over his head, “Ginny do you mind staying here to make sure the populace doesn't realize we’ve gone?”

“That's fine,” Ginny replied he looked sideways at her who looked reluctant, but understood what needed to be done. She saw his look and squeezed his shoulder in reassurance before gesturing for them to take their leave and Apparate back to Hogsmeade.

As his friends led him to an alleyway a bit away from the main celebration in the streets, Harry could not help but wonder if his counterpart knew of their connection through these disturbing visions.


	21. The Portents of Things to Come

Harry was still a little shaken by the time they had Apparated from Hogsmeade and walked to Hogwarts, passing by some curious Aurors, but most of them had left them alone, after smelling the strong alcohol Harry had on his robes from his spilled butterbeer. Let them think what they wanted, he was still worried about the fact of what he had seen, what Snape had done, everything about that vision disturbed him. Even though he did not want Dumbledore to know about his first vision, the fact that he had another one, while awake, made it relevant enough to talk to the Headmaster about potentially sharing visions amongst their counterparts in this world.

They walked into Hogwarts with little to no trouble, save for a few Aurors who plugged their noses at the stench of the alcohol, and headed up to the Headmaster’s office. It was only until they stopped in front of the gargoyle’s statue that the three of them realized they did not know the password.

“Err…Chocolate Frogs?” he barely remembered the password his father had given to him the day that Crouch Jr. had ambushed him outside the headmaster’s office. He did not expect the statue to move and true to his thoughts, the statue did not.

“Lemon drops? Wild Wands?” Ron tried out, his voice abruptly changing in the middle of his sentence.

Harry looked at him before he felt the prickle of Merlin’s influence hovering over him and turned to see Marion Sadow and another Auror, female, walking towards them, their wands drawn, but relaxed. He realized that they were probably patrolling the halls.

“Merlin, Lord Gryffindor, Lady Ravenclaw,” Marion greeted them with a short bow, “are you trying to get into the Minister’s office?”

“Is he there?”

“I believe he should be,” the fair-skinned Auror replied, “is something the matter? Did something happen in Cardiff?”

“Uh, no, we just came back early because we thought of something,” Harry improvised, “Selwyn is staying there to cover for us.”

“Or maybe because you may need a bath,” the other Auror suddenly spoke up, a grimacing smile on her face.

“Oh yeah,” Harry looked sheepishly down at his robes, still smelling like butterbeer. He took his wand out and cast the cleaning spell on his robes, siphoning away the spilled liquid from his robes. “Sorry about that…”

“Emmeline Daigger,” the other Auror introduced herself, “it’s an honor to meet the three of you, though I wished Lord Hufflepuff were still here.”

“He has returned to bring news to our allies that all hope is not lost,” Hermione’s cultured tones as Rowena Ravenclaw never ceased to amaze Harry. She sounded so formal and imperious, yet managed to also sound wise at the same time.

“A wise choice, as I presume that the war is still going on between Morgana and your allies?” Marion asked.

“Yes, though we do hope that with the knowledge we gain from here, it would help us avoid the future that has been presented to us in your history books. However, since nothing has changed and history has not been altered, perhaps Nathan has forgotten what has transpired here,” Hermione continued with Rowena’s influence, “If that is the case, then he will be like the others, wondering about our whereabouts.”

“If that is the case and history has not been altered…”

Harry felt his head spinning from the conversation both Marion and Hermione were having and glanced at Ron who also looked a bit confused. He wanted to see the Headmaster, but it seemed like the two of them had found a topic to talk about and interrupting them right now seemed a bit rude.

 _We used to joke that Rowena could talk one of her opponents down with just her sheer knowledge of everything there is to know about anything. Seems that Wisdom is truly part of Hermione and using her knowledge to amplify their powers_ , Merlin whispered in his mind as he and Ron exchanged bemused looks.

“Password is ‘coffee candy’,” Emmeline whispered to them noticing their bemused expressions.

“Thanks,” Harry grinned before slowly edging away from Hermione and Marion who were now deep in a discussion regarding something about time flow and time travel. He did not know if Hermione had studied those kinds of subjects, but suspected that being a bookworm; she probably had during the holidays, keeping up with both Muggle and Wizarding studies.

“Is it okay to leave Hermione there?” Ron asked as they stood in front of the gargoyle.

“Coffee candy,” Harry spoke the password and the gargoyle jumped out of the way, “should be fine. I mean, we can fill her in later, Ginny too when she comes back from Cardiff.”

“I guess,” his best friend shrugged as they went up the spiral staircase and stopped in front of the wooden door.

Harry knocked on it and a muffled ‘enter’ was heard before he opened the door and walked in, Ron closing it behind him.

“Ah, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, what can I do for you?” Dumbledore was hunched over his desk, quill in hand as he was signing what looked like forms. An overflowing in-out box was on the corner of the table the stacks of parchments precariously swaying this way and that. Occasionally one or two of them would suddenly fold themselves up from the ‘out’ box and an owl would come in through one of the open windows taking a parchment before flying back out.

Fawkes was on his perch, preening and occasionally staring with an eye on the owls that came in and out. He turned and stared at them with a measured look before returning to preen. Harry remembered that the phoenix had given them the coins needed to buy their clothes and supplies and that the coin was from James. It was odd then, that James was able to summon Fawkes and have him deliver the coin. As far as he knew, in his world, anyone who had believed wholeheartedly in Dumbledore and his cause was able to summon Fawkes.

But it was Sirius who had cautioned that he not tell Dumbledore certain things, and it seemed that Remus had not told Dumbledore of what had happened when they met the Weavers. James had agreed with his friends and insisted caution on these matters, so did it mean that Dumbledore did not command Fawkes’ loyalty? And if so, who commanded the phoenix’s loyalty and if they did, why was Fawkes in Dumbledore’s office?

Still, he knew that the seriousness of the most recent vision needed to be told. The Headmaster was the only one who really knew if the differences between his world and this one. He would at least hopefully be able to make some heads or tails regarding what he had seen. However, he knew he had to be careful regarding what he told Dumbledore. The Headmaster’s harsher views in light of the war going on and also from what Remus and the others had told him regarding the policies that he had never expected the Headmaster to approve of, he knew that this Headmaster was very different from his own. How much different, he did not know, but until he could be sure, he would keep certain knowledge from him.

So that left the question of how did one explain a vision or connection without mentioning Horcruxes?

“I was wondering if you ever shared any visions with the previous Dreamer of Hopes when you were named as Heir?” the conclusion was natural as from a certain point of view, this world’s Harry Potter was the Heir to the Dreamer of Hopes, if he had his way as the placeholder Dreamer of Hopes.

“You have already chosen your Heir? But I thought you had not awakened to your powers yet?” the Headmaster looked up at them briefly, his eyes serious.

“No, I mean, not yet,” Harry queried Merlin for any help, but the Dreamer of silent.

The Headmaster blinked once before waving a hand to stop the ‘out’ pile from folding itself though it left the rest of the parchments swaying rather violently. “I have had visions on occasion, but never before when I was named Heir. Am I within bounds to presume that this has something to do with Mr. Longbottom’s departure from this world and this world Neville Longbottom now the current Dreamer of Justice?”

“Sort of,” Harry wrinkled his forehead for a second before deciding to at least tell the Headmaster some of what had transpired during their meeting with the Weavers. “The Weavers told us that we had been brought to this world because we are placeholders, temporary Dreamers until the ones in this world are truly ready to take up the mantle of the Virtues of Man. Basically our world’s counterparts are supposed to be the true Dreamers in this world, the next generation.”

“And Neville Longbottom is the first,” the Headmaster sat back, tapping his quill to his lips while he nodded absently, “it makes sense now.” He looked at Harry with serious eyes, “And your declaration a little less than two months ago before the Black Queen attacked Hosgmeade makes more sense now. I had long suspected it even though Remus had not told me of what had transpired during your meeting, but it had been easy to put together the pieces.”

“Yes,” the wound on his arm had healed and left just a thin scar that was barely visible in certain light.

“Now is it safe to presume that when you are talking about visions with Heirs, you mean to say you had a vision of your counterpart? The Black Queen?” Dumbledore asked, his voice simple, but direct. “Of his plans?”

“Yes…”

“Perhaps you have a Seer’s vision?”

Next to him Ron snorted and Harry shook his head, “I was really bad at Divination, Headmaster. Dropped the class for my N.E.W.T.s.”

“Ah,” the twinkle was back in his eyes before the Headmaster shook his head, “we all have our faults. Then we can discount any Seer blood within you. Will you tell me what you saw?”

Here Harry hesitated. He didn’t exactly want to tell Dumbledore what he had seen, but in his world he had tried to share what he had seen through the connection between him and Voldemort. It had been the Horcrux part of him that was able to maintain the connection. Yet, something about this world’s Dumbledore was making him hesitate, even though the Headmaster sounded and sometimes acted like his world’s Headmaster.

Another thought occurred to him, “Could I have been cursed by the Black Queen during the ball or the battle the day after?”

“To make you see things? Through his eyes?”

“Yeah…”

The Headmaster sat back in his chair, tapping the tips of his fingers together as he adopted a thoughtful expression on his face. Fawkes had stopped preening and was staring at them before fluttering slightly on his perch.

“I do not believe so, but are you seeing violent images? Things that may portent an impending attack upon Hogsmeade or even Cardiff?”

“No, just seemingly random flashes of conversation,” that was all Harry was willing to say. He had to admit, this world’s Headmaster was very good at trying to make him tell him everything. But long association with his world’s Dumbledore made Harry all the more aware of what the Headmaster was saying. He did not really know why he was withholding the information from Dumbledore, but a part of him _knew_ that he should. Merlin did not offer his opinion either way and he expected it as much from the Dreamer. The Dreamer was there to help him in dealing with other things, not with revealing all that he knew.

“Perhaps then it is a portent of things to come,” the Headmaster sat forward again, “perhaps these visions will soon tell you of plans and of attacks that may happen.” Dumbledore’s eyes lost their twinkle as he stared at Harry, “I hope that I do not have to tell you the seriousness of this situation. But if your visions could provide a glimpse into our enemy’s plans…”

“I understand,” Harry understood the implicit meaning behind the Headmaster’s words, yet he felt somewhat uneasy. He remembered that his world’s Dumbledore had encouraged him to learn Occulmency to protect himself against Voldemort’s invasion of his mind. This world’s Dumbledore seemed to imply sharing that connection even further to see if he could glimpse the enemy’s plans. It was a highly unsettling feeling, but then again, the people of this world had been fighting a long, drawn out war for so long that any chance of having an advantage would be useful. That was what enabled them to retake Cardiff and drive out Grindelwald’s Death Eaters.

“Could it be because the Black Queen is Fears’ Heir?” Ron suddenly spoke up, curious, “does that mean I’ll be seeing whoever Courage’s counterpart Dreamer in this world is?”

That thought had not occurred to Harry and he was surprised, but also proud that Ron was becoming more observant. He watched as the Headmaster gave his best friend a measured look before nodding slowly. “Possibly. I have on occasion when I was Hopes, shared visions with the Dark Lord,” he drew out his wand and tapped it against his fingers idly, “I was on occasion able to glean secrets that the Dark Lord would otherwise have withheld from even those he trusted above all else.”

To any other listening in on their conversation, they would have thought that the words meant Dumbledore was able to see plans of attacks or even raids upon others, but to Harry, he knew from long experience that the Headmaster sometimes did things with the subtlest of reasons. He had drawn his wand out while talking and he knew what it meant – Dumbledore was able to disclose the location of the original Elder Wand, the Deathstick, and take the Hallow either from Grindelwald, or before Grindelwald had found it.

However, whether or not Dumbledore knew that he knew of his possession of the Elder Wand, it seemed that the Headmaster knew of the existence of the Deathly Hallows. And that meant that he most likely knew of James Potter’s Invisibility Cloak. The Resurrection Stone was another matter and Harry remembered seeing a ring on Voldemort’s finger with a jet black stone set in it. That meant that Voldemort possessed the last of the Hallows… So what did it mean when he possessed all three in his world and the three were still scattered amongst the three most powerful wizards of this day and age?

“If I am able to see these visions with my counterpart in this world, does that mean he would be able to see what I see too?” Harry asked.

“Ah,” the Headmaster sat back again, dropping his wand on his desk, “you are afraid that these visions could go both ways. Have you heard of the art of Occlumency?”

“Yes,” Harry wrinkled his brow, “I wasn’t very good at it. Snape and I didn’t quite get along back in my world.”

“I suspect it probably has something to do with your father and Severus’ rivalry, I take it? Similar to the one they have in this world?”

“I think so,” aside from the Order of the Ministry meetings he had been to, the breakfast before the attack on Hogsmeade, and the night of the Founders’ Ball, he had barely seen his father and Snape interact with each other. Perhaps some things weren’t so different in this world regarding rivalries. Especially since Lily Potter was obviously with Snape instead of James.

“Well, he is the best to teach you,” Dumbledore smiled briefly before gesturing to the stack of papers making the ‘out’ box start folding itself up again, “I would except as the Minister of Magic…”

Harry nodded sensing the dismissal. If Dumbledore’s solution was to give him more Occlumency lessons, he supposed it wasn’t a bad thing this time around. This time, Severus Snape did not know that he was Harry Potter, this time there was no history, nothing of failed potion classes, detentions, years of resentment and perceived arrogance between them. Maybe this time he could learn properly…and at the same time perhaps learn why his mother had left his father for Severus.

And why this world’s Severus as a spy was so willing to hand over members of the Ministry like they meant nothing to him. This world’s Severus held the face of a mild-mannered Potions Professor yet was a ruthless Death Eater that had even Grindelwald and the Black Queen fooled.

“Thanks, Professor,” he said as he headed out of the door, Ron following behind him. When they reached the bottom of the spiral stairs, the gargoyle helpfully leaping out of the way, the two of them saw that Hermione, Emmeline, and Marion had already left.

“Ginny should be back from Cardiff, I reckon,” Ron shrugged, “you want to meet her by the main hall or you going to go find Snape now?”

“Snape was at the meeting that I saw. That was probably a couple of hours ago so I don’t know if he’s back or not, but I want to check the dungeons,” he checked his watch, noting that while it was nearly ten, it still wasn’t too late.

“You need me to come with you?” his best friend looked concerned.

“No, just going to ask him about Occlumency, that’s all,” the two of them started down the stairs to take them to the Great Hall and for Harry to reach the dungeons.

“What is that anyways?”

“Remedial potions don’t you remember?” he stared at Ron who furrowed his brow for a couple of seconds before comprehension filled his face.

“That’s what it was?” Harry realized that Ron had all but forgotten about his excuse for Occlumency lessons was remedial potions.

“Dumbledore swore me to secrecy,” he gave Ron a half shrug, “and it didn’t work since I apparently was horrible at keeping my emotions under wraps.”

“Yeah, I still remember,” Ron grinned, “you reckon your lessons made it worst?”

“Maybe, I don’t really know,” he admitted, “maybe I can get a proper lesson this time?”

“Hopefully,” his best friend agreed before clapping him on the shoulder, “all right, I’ll find Ginny and fill her in on what’s going on. Then maybe we can find Hermione and hopefully she can fill us on what’s _really_ going on.”

“Or just give us some light reading,” Harry grinned before parting ways with Ron, heading down towards the dungeons. However, as he took the steps down towards the dungeons, the familiar dread of having to ask Snape about Occlumency lessons crept upon him again. His smile fell from his face as he remembered the vivid harsh lessons he had with Snape regarding the art and the pain that he had felt in his head, like someone trying to pull his brain out of his skull.

For a second, he considered not asking Snape about Occlumency lessons, but then again, the fact that the Black Queen seemingly stared back at him during his waking vision, implying that could see what he saw made him shiver with worry. He did not want to put any of his friends or his family in danger by allowing the Black Queen to glimpse of plans, spies within the Order, or even the Order of the Ministry meetings. All of that could be used against him and he did not want to be the one who accidentally gave Grindewald and Voldemort’s chief assassin the tools to accomplish his mission.

He could not deny that a part of him was hoping that Snape had not yet returned from that Death Eater meeting so he would have the excuse to find him later. Knocking on the door, there was a moment of silence – in which he thought Snape was not there – before the man’s muffled voice came through the door.

Harry suppressed a groan and opened the door, schooling his features to a more neutral expression as he felt Merlin’s presence enveloping him. He had no intention of revealing who he was to Snape, but the Occlumency lessons meant that Snape would be able to see into his mind, get glimpses and flashes of who he really was. Maybe this wasn’t really a good idea after all…

But in his world, Severus Snape was the best spy anyone could ask for and he had paid for it with his life. He had sacrificed so much so that Lily Potter’s only son would be protected. In this world, Severus Snape was still a spy and it seemed that he was trusted above all else and Dumbledore seemed to hold him in the same trust as his counterpart in his world. But Lily Potter was not dead so what did Snape sacrifice to keep him aligned to the Order of the Ministry?

“Merlin,” it still caught Harry by surprise to hear Snape talking to him in such a pleasant, conversational tone.

“Professor,” he greeted neutrally, unsure about how to approach the Potions Professor, Death Eater, Ministry spy, and former Dreamer of Justice. Perhaps that was it, being the former Dreamer of Justice meant that Snape was tied to this side of the war, but then again, Merlin and even the others had said that a Dreamer on either side could be corrupted and turned to the opposite side. There was the possibility that Snape was an ex-Dreamer, yet could also be one of the Seven Sins of Man at this very moment, hidden as a spy within their midst. Perhaps that was why Grindelwald, Voldemort, and even the Black Queen to a certain extent trusted Snape.

“I’ve only just returned from a meeting-“

“Death Eater meeting,” Harry blurted out, “I…saw you there…”

That stopped Snape in his tracks as he looked sharply up at him and for a second Harry caught a glimpse of the old Snape that he had known for so many years at Hogwarts, shrewd, calculating, seemingly cold. Then a flippant mask seemingly fell over his features and he nodded, “I presume that the Minister told you of my status?”

“After a fashion,” he nodded before plunging on, “why did you kill Hestia?”

This time there was a stronger reaction as Snape stared at him surprised before his right hand plunged into his robes, but he did not draw out his wand. “How do you know about that? Not even the Minister-”

“I…” Harry opened his mouth before closing it and realized what he had done, “I…had a vision, a waking vision, just a couple of hours ago while we were still in Cardiff.”

“A vision…?” Snape drew his hand out again, wandless, but did not relax his stance.

“Why did you betray Hestia? She was one of the Aurors here!” he asked, the vivid memory of seeing Hestia _exploding_ from the wandless wordless spell thrown by Grindelwald etched in his mind.

“How did you see that?!” Snape stared at him, his expression unreadable, but Harry thought he detected a note of panic in his voice.

“Never mind that, why did you do it? She was…she-“ Harry stopped as he realized that he did not know who Hestia was in this world, only the fact that in his world, she was an Auror, a good and kind-hearted one who had helped him twice, once by being an advance guard for him in his fifth year, the other by helping the Dursleys escape Privet Drive just a little over a year ago. She was a new member of the Order of the Phoenix, pink-cheeked and black haired, a young Auror who had probably graduated from training after Tonks.

“You betrayed her like there was nothing to it! She died-“

“To serve a purpose,” Snape cut him off coolly, “she died because Voldemort needed a spy to prove that he was still worthy of his title.”

“His title?! That’s it?! Just because he needed to keep the title of the Black King?! You could have handed him that double-crossing traitor Wormtail!” Harry shouted, appalled at such a simple grab for power that enabled Snape to betray the young Auror and spy.

“I will ignore the fact that you know of what Pettigrew is and what he had done and explain to you why the Black King needs to stay in place,” Snape’s voice had dropped to a mere whisper, but that whisper broke through Harry’s anger and he realized what he had inadvertently revealed to Snape. And the fact that Snape had said that Wormtail had done _something_ heavily implied in his mind that it was in fact Pettigrew who had betrayed the Potters on October 31st, 1981.

But the fact that it seemed that neither Lily nor James knew of who had betrayed them that night meant that Snape kept the information _from_ them. He could feel Merlin’s push for caution, but he was furious. Snape had no right to keep that kind of information from them. They had a right to confront their betrayer and if Snape did such a thing-

“The Black King needs to stay in place because his presence causes chaos amongst the higher ranked Death Eaters, the Dark Lord himself, and the Black Queen,” Snape’s words cut through his thoughts, “it is a subtle, but vital power struggle happening right now. It is a plan the Minister and I have been cultivating since Regulus Black the previous Black Queen, died.”

“You-“

“You knew who the Black Queen was all these years?!” Lily Potter’s voice overrode whatever Harry was about to say and both he and Snape turned to the doors of the dungeons to see her standing there, a horrified expression on her face. “You knew that it was my son, my _Harry_ …?” she asked, her voice a broken whisper.

“Lily-“

Lily’s face twisted into a pained grimace, “How could you Severus?”

“Lily, wait,” Snape brushed past Harry, nearly clipping him in the shoulder as he ran towards her and grasped her hands before she could leave. “Lily, wait, listen, it isn’t what you think.”

“You and the Minister?” Harry saw that his mother looked to be on the verge of tears as she shook her head, “the two of you had been planning this…?”

“I didn’t know who he really was until the night of the Ball, listen, you have to believe me!” he shook her shoulders, “I didn’t know. I swear. He always wore either a mask or was in the shadows during all of the meetings before then. No one knew except for the Dark Lord and maybe the Black King.

“Lily, look at me. Use Legilimency if you have to, but I’m telling you the truth. I have never concealed anything from you,” Snape’s voice took on an earnest tone and Harry looked away, feeling as if he should be somewhere else instead of hearing this from his mother and Snape of all people. Was this how Snape had seen his mother in his world? Was this what could have happened? The earnest _love_ he heard in Snape’s voice, pounded into nothing but bitter resentment and sorrow over the long years since Lily Potter’s death, but so alive in this world.

He wanted his mother to be with his father in this world, but hearing such earnestness, such devotion, and comparing it with the melancholy mixed with rare fierceness that was his father in this world. He didn’t claim to understand what his parents were going through, but he couldn’t help but feel torn at that prospect. Lily Potter had obviously been through so much since the supposed death of Harry Potter in this world, and yet somehow found comfort in the arms of one of her friends in Hogwarts, the one who had been pining after her for so long.

“I believe you,” Lily finally whispered, “I don’t need to use Legilimens to know that…just…”

“Did you know he called you a Mudblood before Grindelwald killed Hestia?” Harry spoke up, staring at nothing in particular. However, as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. It was childish of him, to try to drive a wedge in between who his mother had clearly chosen to be with. A part of him screamed that he wanted his parents to be together, to be a family unit like the Weasleys. He didn’t want Snape to be with his mother, wanted him out of the picture, yet he could not deny that he knew how Snape felt about his mother because of those memories he had given him in his last moments alive.

“Sorry,” he shook his head before barging past them, unwilling to see their reactions to his statement. Neither one of them called his name as he walked quickly down the hall and up the stairs to the main floors, but he felt his cheeks burn in shame at his own actions. The Dreamer’s disapproval of his handling of the situation also lingered in his mind and he mentally shoved it to the side. He knew he acted childishly, acted wrongly and he didn’t need some influence in his head telling him that.

But most of all, he didn’t get to ask Snape about Occlumency lessons because of his hot-headedness. He had been too appalled, too angry with what he had seen and it had led the conversation down a path he didn’t want it to take. _Can you block any attempt by my counterpart to see through my eyes if this happens again?_ He asked Merlin who mentally shook his head.

 _Nothing like this has happened in any generation of Dreamers. My guess is that perhaps it is a counterpart thing? Perhaps you should ask your friends if they have been getting any visions from their counterparts,_ Merlin replied.

_What about what Dumbledore said, about sharing visions with Grindelwald?_

_That I do not know_ , the Dreamer said.

Harry shook his own head as he made his way up the stairs. However, he bypassed the Room of Requirement and instead headed up to the Astronomy Tower. With classes not in session yet, it was the perfect spot for him to think up of someway to perhaps apologize for his words and maybe try to salvage the whole thing. Most of all, he didn’t want to be bothered with his friends’ questions at the moment, especially since they were probably expecting him to say that he was going to take Occlumency lessons with Snape.

As reached the top of the Astronomy Tower, he realized that someone was already there. Turning around, he made to head back down the stairs before James’ familiar tones spoke out in the near darkness of the tower.

“It’s okay, I was just about to go back on patrol,” James turned around before starting a bit, “oh it’s you…Mer, uh, Harry. Did someone send you to find me up here?”

“No,” Harry climbed the rest of the stairs, “just needed a quiet place to think.”

James gave him a brief smile, “Good place to do so. Quiet, away from everyone else…I’ll, uh, leave you to it.”

“Wait, uh,” Harry suddenly did not want his father to leave, “can I ask you a question?”

James looked a little hesitant but shrugged, “Sure…”

“Ever since I told you who I really am, you’ve been a bit odd lately, is everything all right?” Harry had noticed the abortive movements that his father had displayed towards him. Like in Hogsmeade after the attack, his father had looked concerned, but when the two of them caught each other’s gazes, his father had abruptly turned as if occupied with something else. That had puzzled him and even the time when he was recovering from the Fayde attack before his father had even known who he was, he had been, twitchy, for the lack of a better word.

“I don’t exactly want to get into it right now…” James replied a bit evasively before sighing and joining him at the edge of the tower, “What the hell, you might as well know by now.”

“Know what?”

“It’s been hard for me,” James didn’t look at him as he leaned against the railings and stared out at the starlit darkness, “to reconcile that you’re really my son when that…man is out there claiming to be my son.”

“He is Harry Potter,” Harry replied quietly.

“I know, and I know some of the stuff I said recently regarding him have hurt you,” James shook his head, “just as you know that they’re not directed towards you, but I know that you also feel them. When I was the Dreamer of Courage I was able to read into people’s emotions and use it to bolster their defenses. That was how Courage worked, by using my own confidence and amplifying it across the battlefield. I still have some of that lingering as a former Dreamer, so I know how you felt about my words towards the Black Queen.”

James sighed, running a hand through his unruly hair and the corner of his lips curved up in a crooked, but mirthless smile, “I believe in you, Harry. I believe in what you said you were going to do, to save the Black Queen, but do you really think it’s the right thing to do?”

“Yes,” Harry had no doubt in his mind that he wanted to turn this world’s Harry Potter away from Voldemort and Grindelwald, background scheming or not. Not even his own pledge to the Weavers that he would stay and fight just so he can go home himself overrode what he believed in.

“He’s killed so many, even before we knew who he was,” his father looked at him, “and you’re willing to give him a second chance?”

“Everyone deserves a second chance,” Harry did not look at his father and instead stared out at the inky night. “Before Voldemort was defeated in my world, I asked him to show some remorse for his actions.”

“And he didn’t kill you just for saying that?” James asked, surprised.

“He tried to, before that,” Harry absently rubbed his chest, the phantom pain of the Killing Curse hitting him echoing across his chest at the memory.

“When you were a baby, no wait, you said before that…he tried to kill you again and failed?!”

“Story for another day,” Harry resisted the urge to tell his father what had happened, about Horcruxes, the Hallows, everything that had happened that night. How his father had appeared in the Resurrection Stone, encouraging him along with his mother, Sirius, and Remus. “The thing is that, everyone deserves a second chance, a chance to atone, to show some remorse for their actions. Almost everyone in this world has had a counterpart in my world and though some of them followed the same path, there are others who follow different paths. But there has to be something that connects the two of them together. I wouldn’t be trying to save the Black Queen if I didn’t know myself.”

“But what if it’s a ploy? He is the Heir to the most powerful Dreamer in existence. He did manipulate things at the Ball, at Hogsmeade,” his father cautioned.

“That’s why I have to try harder,” Harry shook his head, “I saw another vision, just a few hours ago.”

“What of?” James asked.

“Hestia Jones’ death, that’s about it,” he did not want to go into details for fear of seeing his father potentially go after Snape and through him, to Lily. He did not want to disrupt what was between the two of them just for his own childish intentions.

“Hestia’s dead?” James heaved out a loud sigh and thumped a fist against the guardrail, “She was one of our best, she must have been betrayed by Crouch Jr.”

They stood in silence for a few minutes before Harry opened his mouth again. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah…”

“What happened between you and Mum- er, Lily?”

His saw his father’s expression close for a few seconds before James shifted his feet. “We…drifted apart, like some married couples.” Harry waited to see if his father would say anymore about that, but it looked like that was all James was going to say about that.

“In my world, I was told that the two of you were happy together, that you loved each other very much. You died first, trying to defend my Mum and I against Voldemort from entering our house at Godric’s Hollow. Voldemort gave my Mum a chance to leave me, but she refused and sacrificed herself to save me,” Harry started a bit reluctantly, “I grew up hearing stories about you and mum at Hogwarts. That you guys had a whirlwind courtship and then married as soon as you graduated then had me soon after. That the two of you defied Voldemort three times which made him come after you.”

“Sounds like a fairy tale,” his father glanced at him, “I’m sorry, but it’s not that I don’t want to tell you, but it still hurts, even right now.”

“Then why don’t you go after her?” he asked, unable to understand why his father was beating himself up like this.

His father snorted and shook his head, “It isn’t that simple. Look, I have to get back to patrol-“

“Wait-“

“I’m already as late as it is,” his father abruptly pushed himself away from the railing and headed down the stairs.

“Wait, Dad!” Harry tried to follow him, but James too quick and the door to the Astronomy Tower abruptly closed with a loud bang, leaving Harry alone. He growled in frustration as he realized that he had pushed James too far in asking why he and Lily were separated. This was a complete nightmare after botching his request to Snape and now pushing James away.

Harry heaved a loud sigh and returned to the railing, staring out at the inky darkness once more. _I’ve really done it now, haven’t I, Merlin?_ He asked the Dreamer within.

 _You could have done worst,_ was the only comforting reply, but Harry took no comfort in those words. He knew that he should apologize the next time he got the chance, perhaps tomorrow morning.

“What did I get myself into…?”


	22. Moments in Transition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, so, hi. The last post before this chapter was April 10, 2011. Today is January, 7, 2018. Since then I've played in other fandoms and have even stopped writing fanfiction as of last year. I've come back to this just mostly out of curiosity and also because I want to attempt to finish it. Let's see how it goes. For reference purposes: this will include only knowledge from the 7 HP books and 8 HP movies. No other references mentioned including Pottermore and recent publications/interviews.

It wasn’t until several days later that Harry was able to find Snape and apologize to him for what was said in the dungeons. However, he did not ask the Potions master to teach him Occlumency, which earned a glare from Hermione and worried looks from both Ginny and Ron. Finding James and apologizing to him was a bit trickier, even with Remus’ help. Harry finally was able to apologize to James when Remus convinced Sirius to come around and to stop thwarting him from finding James. It seemed Sirius was overprotective of James' well-being and Harry having hurt James stirred that overprotective instinct once more. Remus managed to convince Sirius Harry's intentions were sincere since he was Temperance. Harry understood Sirius' intentions; his godfather suffered the death of his beloved little brother in this world by the Black Queen's hand made it uneasy for all of them to truly believe him. It was clear that the revelation that he was the Black Queen's counterpart still rattled the people he once would have called allies.

Truth be told, Harry knew Ron and Hermione would have done the same if their positions were reversed. When he finally tracked James down and apologized, his father's reply was a gruff and curt 'apology accepted,' and nothing more. Harry had a feeling that he reversed all the goodwill he built with James. Whether or not he could rebuild the goodwill and trust was another story.

At least Snape, of all people, was a little more accepting of his apology. It also helped that Lily hugged Harry after he apologized, saying that she was grateful for the opportunity to talk over a several things with Snape. That left him with some mixed feelings, particularly a niggling sense of hurt of whether or not that his mother grew even closer to Snape after what happened or her unconditional acceptance of his apology without even a single drop of malice or afterthought. Truly his mother was the most forgiving woman in the wizarding world after everything he knew about her.

In the aftermath of his apology to Snape, Hermione not-so-subtly hinted and pestered for him to ask Snape about Occulmency lessons. She even tried to get Ginny and Ron to support her, but the two of them stayed wisely out of it; privy to the numerous feuds, fights, and silent arguments throughout their years at Hogwarts and the year they were on the run. Ginny occasionally supported Hermione's insistence – if only for the sisterhood that bonded them together. But Harry was unmoved and ignored Hermione's attempts. Everything still felt raw enough that he did not want to ask Snape for Occulmency lessons nor subject himself to Legilimens. He still did not readily trust Snape in this world as much as he trusted and understood the Snape of his world. Added to the power that the Dreamers wielded, he was not sure what to expect if he did subject himself to Legilimens under Snape's tuteledge. He hoped Merlin's powers, even however latent and unawakened they were helped him with any Occulmency he might have scraped up. He remembered he felt the burst of shielding power when they first met the members of the Order of the Ministry all those months ago. He would have to rely on that for now, until he could get a better sense of this world's Severus Snape.

Two weeks passed since his apologies, six weeks since Neville Longbottom of this world took over as the new Dreamer of Justice, and two months after the debacle of the Founders' Ball. Harry found himself walking down to the Quidditch pitch once more, lost in thought. It was odd not having their Neville around, though the Room of Requirement still stayed the same as if it kept the spirit of their Neville around to ensure that their rooms and needs did not change much. This world's Neville was more distant, more soldierly though he occasionally stopped by Hogwarts. The last time was just a little over a week ago, filling them in on the rebuilding of Cardiff and other happenings. The world's Neville stopped by to ask them about an odd vision he received as a Dreamer about a gleaming sword, the Sorting Hat, and a rather large snake.

Harry and the others realized Neville saw something of their world's Neville killing Nagini, Voldemort's pet snake and the last Horcrux. They sat Neville down and explained to him what happened in their world, but Harry explicitly avoided mentioning anything about Horcruxes to the Dreamer of Justice. A part of him cautioned against the revelation – whether influenced by Merlin or not. Judging by how much he knew of this world, even if Neville was the Dreamer of Justice, and the stories told by others; a Dreamer, if isolated and captured could potentially switch sides, much like how Salazar did during Merlin's time. Luckily, his friends also caught onto his hesitancy at Nagini's true nature and made vague references as to her importance to Voldemort and how many she had killed on the Black King's orders.

It seemed their ploy worked as Neville left saying he would cast a wide net for Nagini, saying that while they could expect an attack by the Death Eaters, an attack by an animal like Nagini – especially under Voldemort's control – was something never encountered before. Neville explained that there were instances of hawks and ravens, even some owls attacking, but many wizards did not have a creature like Voldemort did and suggested that a wizard with a familiar could be a very deadly wizard. It gave more insight to Harry and his friends on how very different this world was further from their own. It seemed all sorts of magical creatures were not considered familiars and animals like toads, cats, or even owls were not considered familiars. Harry wondered what they were considered as, but did not ask.

Neville left saying he would cast a wide net for Nagini.

His statement also worried Harry once more about the basilisk under Hogwarts; potentially slithering through the pipes once more, unknowingly and unseeingly. He wanted to bring his concerns to Dumbledore, but each time he attempted to approach the Minister, he was either stuck in meetings or came to the Great Hall for brief meals before retiring.

Bringing up the basilisk to Hagrid was out of the question, the gameskeeper that Harry felt so friendly towards in his world was gone since the end of the previous school term – Remus mentioned something about parlaying the giants to withdrawal their support from Voldemort and remain a neutral force. Harry idly wondered if Hagrid had a half-brother named Gawrp in this world... He knew that he could sneak down into the basilisk's lair, having remembered the password to get in (and with Ron successfully hissing it in a mangled way during the battle), but he also knew that he would be at a terrible disadvantage.

Having lost the ability to speak to snakes since Voldemort killed the Horcrux part of himself a couple of months back, he knew he would not be able to hear the basilisk's hissing words in his ears, which would give the creature a great advantage should it strike while he was down there. Harry shook his head wordlessly.

“Harry?” Ginny's worried voice made him snap out of his thoughts and saw her frown, concerned.

“I'm fine, just...thinking.” He smiled hesitantly. “Basilisk.”

She nodded and patted him on the arm in consolation. “Professor Sprout does have enough Mandrakes in case they are needed.”

A brief extraneous thought was offered from Merlin and Harry plucked at it – it seemed Selwyn had an affinity for herbs and plants for medicinal and not-so-medicinal purposes. Merlin also sent an additional memory of a bannermen dinner where Selwyn laid waste to a bunch of traitors with just a few Mandrakes, Acromantula venomm, and one very particular angry dryad. He was glad that Ginny had the foresight to ask the Herbology professor about her plants in the guise of Selwyn. Another consolation was from Hermione who reasoned if the creature had not attacked now, then it was probably not released. She pointed out that Voldemort or even Grindelwald – if he had the ability to speak Parseltongue – would release it someday, especially now that they were here and attack the populace with it.

“Maybe we can go with Fawkes?” Ron asked as they grabbed the brooms Madam Hooch allowed them to borrow for the time being, and kicked off.

“How?” Harry half-shouted, the wind whipping around him as they flew around in leisurely circles. This was supposed to be a rare moment where they wanted to do nothing more than fly around, to not think of all that happened and their decision to stay in this world.

“Ron that's brilliant!” Hermione called out. This high in the air, her bushy-hair should have looked wind-swept and flying all over the place, but it seemed as if it was held back by a charm of sorts.

“What, I don't get it,” Harry was a little confused.

“Well, remember that bag of gold we got-”

“From my father-er, James-”

“Your father, Harry,” Ginny shook her head, flying close to him. She reached out and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “We don't blame you for telling them who you really are Harry, not after everything.”

“Okay, remember that bag of gold we got? So why would your dad write to not tell Dumbledore and get Fawkes of all people to deliver it? Aren't phoenixes one of the most loyal animals outside of owls?” Ron asked, the four of them now hovering close together. The low hanging cloud sprayed a fine mist across Harry's face, blurring his glasses a little, but he did not mind. It was much better than the hot late-August sun that beat down on them.

“You're saying that Fawkes is loyal to my dad?” Harry asked.

“Seems like it mate,” Ron shrugged.

“So why not Dumbledore? Aren't they both on the same side?” Harry was confused.

“Look,” Ron held up a hand, “all I'm saying is maybe we can check out the Chamber of Secrets with Fawkes around – get your dad to get Fawkes to help us? Maybe also Mad-Eye Moody and his magical eye-”

“I'll have to research whether or not a magical eye if it meets the basilisk's gaze can be frozen or not,” Hermione interjected.

“-and maybe we can figure out whether or not this thing is still alive?” Ron continued and Harry found himself nodding to his friend's suggestion. It was rather brilliant and a lot more clever than he could ever thing of. He stared at Ron for a moment who blushed a little. “What, I had seven years to realize what kinds of plans you come up with and try to execute.”

“I'd rather think we plan, we get there, and things don't always go right,” Harry could not help himself, but the others laughed.

“Also, being around Hermione's made me more observant,” Ron's smile turned shy and Harry's smile grew wider as it was Hermione's turn to blush at the compliment.

“Honestly, you two,” Ginny rolled her eyes.

“So it leaves the question, how do we kill the basilisk if it is still alive?”

“Maybe Gryffindor's sword is still in the Sorting Hat?” Hermione suggested.

“If it is, then it's definitely in the Headmaster's office and I haven't been able to even get up there without the password being changed or Dumbledore not even letting me in.”

“Well can't we...”

Harry's vision suddenly greyed out as his friend's faces were overlayed with the murkiness that he recognized as his counterpart's own eyes. He thought he heard gasps around him, but there was nothing Harry could do to pull himself out.

“ _And what would this accomplish?” Grindelwald lounged on his throne chair, a bored expression on his face._

 _But Harry knew the Dark Lord was anything but bored. He could_ feel _the hunger, the knowledge, the sharpness of the old man's gaze on him even as he absently picked at a nail. This was truly a test and one he relished. All was going according to plan._

“ _With the return of the Dreamer of Justice, Albus Dumbledore's forces have grown stronger, have..._ Hope _...” he sneered and saw something flash through the Dark Lord's expression as he sat up and stared at him, a marked interest on his face._

_Harry took the opportunity to dig the metaphoric blade already buried in the Black King's side a little deeper. “This will not be a waste of resources as the ill-timed attack on the defenses at Cardiff and the Dreamer of Justice.” He could see Voldemort glare daggers at him and felt something pulsate within him, a murderous rage that he twisted his neck a little to get rid of the phantom touch. He only smiled mildly at the Black King, daring him to do what he wished to do – daring him to try what he wished to try in front of the Dark Lord. It would truly show who would be the Heir of Fears if Voldemort lost control._

_But his silent goading went undisturbed as Voldemort's reptilian eyes blazed with anger, but he kept himself still, as if unaffected by the barb._

“ _My Lord, I must protest this-”_

“ _Come now, Lucius, surely as Corruptions, you would be overjoyed to claim the glory of this attack?” Harry looked at the simpering idiot that was Lucius Malfoy. The new Dreamer of Corruptions was at times, trying his patience. He had threatened and cajoled Malfoy during the Founder's Ball, exuded a murderous intent that even all others who were not the rogue Ministry members or even a part of the inner circle of Death Eaters were wise to flee the ball before the intent was put to test. Corruptions along with the position of Black Knight was supposed to be the face of the attacks and here he was, the Black Queen suggesting that Corruptions take his damn place to be the face of the Dark Lord._

_It was laughable._

“ _I do not mind, Black Queen,” Malfoy straightened and glared at him, but turned to the Dark Lord to further address him. “I must protest as our own will be on the Hogwarts Express- doing your good work in being our eyes and ears.”_

“ _Ah, yes, the children...”_

“ _These children, though they have pledged loyalty to us, their sacrifice in such an attack would be detrimental to the information we have received-”_

“ _Oh yes, because your son, Draco, did_ so well _in retrieving information for us when Merlin and his Knights arrived in the latter parts of his last school year,” Harry drawled, rolling his eyes. The Malfoy boy's letters were as unhelpful as ever and it only took his personal appearance at the Founder's Ball to strike a reaction – even then, it took him the day after to attack to see what he was really up against – and to him, Merlin and his Knights were worth it._

_They were completely worth the worthless mission he went on._

_He needed to be careful considering he was only still an Heir, but even so, it was not a guaranteed position as he and the Black King feuded. Harry was well aware of the feud and that the Dark Lord was amused by it – but it was the only way he knew how to survive how to play the game. He_ needed _to play the game._

“ _Lucius, this will only be a child's play, a game, a test, a chance to test their defenses to test their loyalties and to see what comes of it.”_

“ _And what if Temperance and Justice show up?”_

“ _Why not join me, Corruptions? Surely you and Lust would love to bathe in the stirrings of Fear?” Harry extended his hand out in a grand theatrical gesture towards Lucius who stared at him for a long moment. The man's lips trembled and Harry could taste the fear on the man's lips and drank it in. It felt heady, powerful, and all-consuming. If this was what a trickle felt like...he turned to the Dark Lord who had a sated, contented smile on his face._

“ _Lust will join us?”_

“ _Of course,” Harry turned to the edges of the crowd that gathered and gestured with a hand, “you will not deny me with your presence, would you, Auntie Bella?”_

“ _Of course not, my sweet,” his Aunt Bellatrix stepped out of the crowd, her voice sweet, her heavy-lidded eyes batting with an overacted simpering of love. Harry smiled a little at her theatricality. He could always trust his dear Aunt to play the part of convincing those who were of lesser hearts to join them, especially when their animal fear overpowered them. After all, she was the Dreamer of Lust. “Dear boy,” she curled herself on his arm, “I do love a good party.”_

“ _This one, my dear, will be the best. We can see if trains do really stop for just one woman-”_

Harry blinked, twitching and shaking himself out of the foggy reverie as he met the others' worried gazes. He realized that they were still floating in the air, albeit, hovering at a lower altitude than the clouds that left wet mist on them. He wanted to wash himself of Bellatrix Lestrange's presence, almost as if she was stuck on his arm again and shuddered.

“Harry, are you all right?” Hermione looked at him worriedly.

“Vision,” he croaked out, before clearing his throat.

“That's the third one, mate,” Ron shook his head.

“Let's land,” Ginny suggested and Harry nodded mutely before they all directed their brooms back to the ground.

As soon as they landed, Harry felt his knees go weak and nearly buckled. He only managed to keep himself upright by holding into the edges of the pitch that led back into the locker rooms. It was hard to shake off this particular vision, as he could feel the cloying scent of Bellatrix still on him, the fear that bathed Lucius Malfoy, could feel his counterpart's hunger for it, the sweet heady sensation that almost was like being high on Felix Felicis. He could feel Merlin trying hard to erase the sensation, smothering it like a soothing balm of calmness. Harry mentally whispered a thank you and got a gentle pat in return.

“Harry, are you all right?” Hermione asked again.

“Yeah, yeah...” Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly, “the other me...the other me, he's...” He did not know what to interpret from what he felt and what he thought his counterpart was thinking when presenting the plan- The plan! “Attack,” he quickly banished all thoughts about his counterpart and his weird feelings, “there's going to be an attack on the Hogwarts Express when it comes up from King's Cross.”

“We need to tell Dumbledore-”

“No!”

“But Harry-!”

“Yes, we need to tell him, but we can't tell him if there are spies in the Ministry, remember?” he said and the others looked quiet.

“Crouch Jr...” Ron muttered, “but that means we can't tell the Order of the Ministry either because, you know, Pettigrew.”

“And Snape,” Harry replied automatically and saw both Hermione and Ginny frown. “What?”

“But you said Snape-”

“Yeah, in our world, but this one, I'm not sure-”

“Harry, we know it's because he's with your Mum-”

“Not only that, but yeah, it's that, but also because we don't _know_ what happened. I mean, I'd like to think that everything happened on October 31st, 1981 like it did in our timeline, but maybe it's different? Maybe it's not? I'm not sure. All I know is that my gut is telling me we need to keep this only to a certain amount of people. Only those we can trust.”

“Your gut or is it Merlin?” Ginny looked at him shrewdly.

“Selwyn?”

“She's trusting Merlin on this, but she wonders if there's something he needs to tell us,” Ginny replied before her expression changed and Selwyn's melodic voice sounded. “We are concerned you may be acting rashly through the visions you have received. This was how Morgana lured Merlin in her eventuality-”

Harry found his perspective suddenly shifting a little as Merlin all but insisted he take over. He barely had time to agree when he found his mouth opening and Merlin's voice resounded as his own. “I am fine, Selwyn. This is not like Voldemort possessing Harry through the shared scar nor is Morgana influencing my visions. It is a matter of trust and it is one I find highly lacking in recent months. The Minister has not told us the truth of Harry James Potter of this world and if this young man is to return to his world, then I will see to it with all of my power, Harry James Potter will become Heir to Hopes.”

“Hey, hey,” Ron reached out and clasped each of their shoulders, “it's all right. We get it. Harry's got the hardest job right now and I know it's not easy, but we need to work together, all right?”

Harry found himself back in control of his body, Merlin apologizing with some gruffness for taking over so quickly. But he felt the Dreamer's lingering guilt for putting him in such a position and mentally gave him a comforting pat on its shoulder. He knew what he was getting into when he told the others he was going to save this world's Harry Potter.

“So, what do we do then?”

“Talk to James,” Hermione looked at him. “Talk to Sirius, talk to them. James would know what to do and if he needs to inform Moody then maybe Moody will be discreet with his Aurors.”

Harry had to smile at Hermione's brilliant plan. Not only was it two-fold to ask James to help protect the Hogwarts Express, but also about Fawkes. It was triple fold for Harry because it was the additional bonus of perhaps mending his relationship with his father after being such an idiot all those nights ago. He would do the right thing this time.

* * *

Harry waited for James to begin his patrol outside the grand hall later that evening. He had been waiting with the aloof Auror Marion Sadow and found out that the two were frequent patrol partners. He would have thought it odd, considering that Marion was a part of Crouch's Aurors, but the fact that his father insisted on Marion's trustworthiness made him wonder why she was held in such high regard to her father. There was something dangerous about her, if not for her pale beauty and features that he could have sworn were Veela-like.

“Lady Sadow,” Merlin's deeper voice colored his own and he could feel the glamour of his features change to protect him, “if I may ask a question while we wait for Auror Potter to arrive.”

“Ask,” Marion's sharp eyes stared at him and for a moment, Harry thought she could see beyond his disguise as Merlin. She did nearly spot him all those months ago when he had the invisibility cloak.

“Tell me about Head Auror Crouch Jr.,” the words came tumbling out of Harry's mouth and he was mortified that Merlin asked such a question, but the Dreamer chided him. He knew about Crouch Jr. from his world, but then felt a thought from the Dreamer that said even though he knew about Crouch Jr., he did not know Crouch Jr. from this world – one who made it into the Aurors and who was part of Dumbledore's Ministry. It was clear that Remus, at least, knew that Crouch Jr. was a spy of some sort, but did not elaborate.

One beautiful eyebrow rose in a perfect arch. It was clearly not a question the Auror was expecting. “I presume you are wondering why there are two heads of the Aurors and perhaps of the conflict you may see between those who call themselves Crouch's Aurors and those named Moody's Aurors?”

“Yes,” Harry replied.

“Head Auror Crouch Jr. attained his position in the Ministry, the Dark Lord's Ministry, when he assassinated his father, the previous head of Magical Law Enforcement.”

“Why? When?”

“It was under the Dark Lord's orders. He was under the Imperius Curse and made to take his father's position. As for the reason why, it is presumed by Minister Dumbledore that the Dark Lord wished for someone more visible, more known with a history of violence and perceived darkness to be the face of the Magical Law Enforcement division.”

“Perceived darkness?” Harry knew Crouch Jr. had a sadistic streak, demonstrated in his Fourth Year when he underwent the trials of the Triwizard Tournament, but he also knew that Crouch Jr. had just an equally devious streak. He could scarcely believe Marion's words, but he forced himself to ask the right questions – guided strongly by Merlin's influence. He did not know why Merlin insisted he ask such questions, but it seemed the Dreamer was hellbent on making him ask and listen.

“Crouch Jr. was a Ravenclaw during our school years, but he had an aptitude for Slytherin if one really looked at it,” Marion shrugged as if it was no consequence. That surprised Harry – he was pretty sure Crouch Jr. in his world was Slytherin through and through.

“From what I can recall, Slytherin House has a so-called perceived leaning towards the Dark Arts?” he heard Merlin's modulated tones over his own, but could not keep the disgust from his voice. He knew it was silly to think in such a way, especially with Merlin and the others' perspective of giving others a chance, but his six years at Hogwarts made him more wary and cautious about Slytherins in general. He could not so easily dismiss or think of the rival house as something other than those who were Dark. He was not Hermione.

 _And I do not expect you to be so lenient as your friend, Harry_ , Merlin chided in his mind. _I only ask you listen, just listen_.

“I would have thought your defense of your friend Salazar would have made you immune to such prejudices?” Marion looked at him, her gaze sharp once more and Harry grimaced.

“The reports the Minister have been letting me read indicate a lot of those who are Death Eaters or even those leaning towards Grindelwald's Ministry are from House Slytherin. It does not endear me to them as they have attacked me,” he made up the excuse.

“Fair,” the Auror conceded. “But as you know, there are a few who are of that House who work with us, most recently Susan Bones, the daughter of Amelia Bones. Many thought her to be Hufflepuff when she first enrolled, but she was placed in House Slytherin.”

“A devious measure,” Harry was still surprised to hear that loyal, kind-hearted Susan Bones had placed in Slytherin in this world. It was truly a twisted world. But at the same time he could see why Susan would be placed in Slytherin if her mother was anything to go by. From what he could perceive, Amelia Bones was one of the Order's deepest undercover agents. It would suit her daughter to do the same, go against her initial house and into one that produced the most devious people ever. Harry could feel Merlin sifting his mind to view the moment the Sorting Hat could not decide whether or not he was to be placed in Gryffindor or Slytherin. He could feel a smugness in the Dreamer as he leafed through the memory – as if silently saying _turnabout is fair play_.

Harry ignored the Dreamer's smugness. “So if Crouch Jr. was Ravenclaw-”

“Being as book-smart as he is, he eventually overcame the Imperius Curse and immediately defected to the Minister's side when he could. Those of us loyal to him came with him. Of course, we were greeted by Moody and his Aurors with suspicion.”

“I can see why.”

She smiled a little, but it was not a kind one and instead, mirthless. “I can assure you, our daily attempts to prove we are not spies nor traitors to Minister Dumbledore has slowly earned the trust of others, but it is not so easily dispelled when one can easily claim Imperius Curse. The only thing we can count on is that the Minister implicitly trusts Crouch Jr. and thus will keep Moody and his Aurors under control.”

“With you watching Crouch Jr.,” he looked at her and she nodded once.

“I have the trust of the Order,” she replied, “I have the trust of Crouch Jr.”

“He does not trust easily,” Harry remembered the day he ran into Crouch Jr. and the two of them nearly came to blows. It was only by James' intervention that it did not end up in a duel.

“He was betrayed once by a man he thought he could trust. That man was eliminated,” Marion's voice sounded the same, but there was something hollow in it. Harry could not pinpoint it before he realized what the Auror meant by 'eliminated.'

“You killed the betrayer,” he murmured and she stared at him, surprise coloring her pale features.

“In the legends, Merlin was perceptive, but I did not believe so until now,” her mirthless smile became a little more bitter. “Yes. I killed him.”

“He was someone close to you?” Harry did not know why Merlin was pressing, but neither was he about to stop the Dreamer. These were questions he didn't think to ask. It seemed Merlin was picking up on a lot more than Harry expected. It intrigued him as he did not know where Merlin was going with this line of questioning.

“My husband, if you would rather to know,” Marion's smile was brittle now. “His name was Colin Thatcher and he died in the incident the world know as the the Veela Attacks of 1983.”

“Colin was one of us,” James' voice was quiet and Harry turned to see him step from the shadows of the hallway, wand held up, but not lit. “Marion, you are slipping.”

“I am not,” her voice was neutral and her eyes flicked downwards. Both James and Harry looked down to see that her wand was held behind her pointed directly at James. “You're slipping. I heard you a hallway away towards the Hospital Wing.”

“Ah, I was coming from the Great Hall,” James replied before he lowered his wand. “Merlin.”

Harry was a little amazed at the ease and natural rolling of his assumed name coming from his father. The haunted, hunted look was gone once more. In place, he could see the countenance that made James Potter one of the best Aurors, a strong man, a confident man. But what puzzled Harry was that why did such confidence only appear on occasion, and more tellingly here and now? A sudden thought occurred to him as he looked back and forth between Marion and James – were they also having an affair? His mother and Snape were together in a very public manner, but could it not be said the same for James? Just as the thought occurred, Harry wanted to banish it, but he could not help but remember his father's defense of Marion in front of the others. His father trusted Marion. What was it not to say that James Potter and the very beautiful Auror were also having an affair much like his mother and Snape.

Something of his disquieting thought must have shown on his expression as James gestured for Harry to stay. “Walk with us, will you, Merlin?”

“Two minutes late, you're worse than Black, James,” Marion shook her head, her voice firm, but Harry thought he caught a hint of amusement in it. It was a very odd contrast to the stern aloofness of the Auror that barely knew.

“Fashionably so,” was his father's reply.

“Then your fashion is horribly outdated by a decade or so, even with all the money in your Vaults,” Marion replied and Harry felt his eyebrows raise up in surprise. It caught his father off guard too as he stared at the Auror.

“I do believe that is the first joke I've heard you crack in a very long time my friend,” James looked astonished.

“Perhaps it is something to do with hope,” Marion gestured towards Harry who shrugged.

“I've not awakened, if you're wondering,” he interjected. He still had no idea what it meant to awaken to a Dreamer's powers and even Merlin was not forthcoming with that knowledge. He only got a vague sense of patience from the Dreamer in him.

“It is still something we have been lacking for a while,” Marion replied, “and it is why I answered your questions. You deserve to know and as a seeker of knowledge to give hope to all those who have despaired, you must understand why there is despair. Why there is suffering and fear.”

“To continue,” his father cleared his throat as they passed a few other Auror's patrolling. They nodded at each other and a few stared at him as he followed. He realized that as Merlin, following both James Potter and Marion Sadow would draw eyes towards them. What they would make of it was another question, but Harry decided to ignore it for now. The stares and questions did not matter right now. “Colin was one of us,” his father reiterated, “a member of the Order. He was one of the best Aurors and was a part of the whole conspiracy to insert Sirius into the Death Eater ranks. As you well know, the plan backfired in a specatularly bad way and-”

“I was nearly sent to Azkaban for using the Unforgivables on the Veela enclaves.” Any previous mirth was now erased from Marion's features, her face as still as marble. “Colin was Imperiused,” she said in a simple tone, “and I had a choice, kill him or blow everyone's cover.”

Harry's brow crinkled, “I cannot even begin to imagine what that is like...” He could not imagine doing the same to Sirius, Ron, Hermione, or even Ginny if any of his friends had suffered. He would have rather blown everyone's cover than to do what Marion did to her husband. For her to sacrifice her husband in such a manner...

“You may think little of me and perhaps my love for Colin a falsehood,” Marion raised her wand a little, letting the _Lumnos_ spell float in the air above them in a ball of light that lit their path. “But it was a decision that needed to be made, and trusted above all else.”

Harry kept quiet, feeling something akin to a sympathetic sensation from Merlin. The Dreamer must have felt the same way when Nimue cast her spell on him and closed him off from the world. He let the Muggle King Arthur die, sacrificing the man he chose and loved dearly for the woman he loved and was bewitched by. A thought occurred to him. “Did you find out who cast the curse on your husband?”

“Yes,” this time Marion's teeth flashed, all predatory and made her sharp features even more angular. It somehow reminded him of the old Greek mythologies of sirens and mythical nymphs and creatures that found their prey.

Silence reigned for a few minutes before Harry stopped dead in his tracks. He played Marion's words back to himself and his eyes widened as he stared at the beautiful Auror. “You have to got to be kidding me,” he stated.

James and Marion both stopped and turned, staring at him. His father's expression was unreadable, but the barest nod of his head confirmed what Harry had just realized. Marion's expression could have been carved from marble, but in the depths of her dark eyes, he thought he saw an unholy glee that would have frightened him except he thought he saw it before, but could not place it at the moment. Harry opened his mouth, then closed it, before opening it again, but no words came out. It was after a few minutes of looking like a fish out of water that he managed to string together one word. “H-How...?”

Marion gestured for them to continue their patrol and with a brief nod from James, Harry switched places with his father as James moved to the rear guard position. They silently climbed up one of the stairs, waiting for it to move into place before continuing.

“Do you know what a Veela is, Merlin?”

Harry was about to say yes, but Merlin colored his words, “I would presume something akin to a siren or fair elven folk?”

“Perhaps similar to Lady Selwyn, but of the water and nymphs in nature,” Marion replied, “over the many hundreds of years your siren, nymphs, and merfolk became what we call ourselves Veela. We are as beautiful and as deadly as the sirens of old, but years of interbreeding and evolution, we have become more...human.” The Auror gestured to herself, “My brother and I are half-Veela. Our father was one, our mother, a witch.”

It certainly confirmed the darkly beautiful features of the Auror and why he was constantly drawn to her appearance. It was very similar to what Fleur exuded during her year at Hogwarts for the Tri-wizard Tournament. But even then, she said she was only a quarter Veela – her grandmother a Veela. But it did not explain why he was only drawn to Marion and not her brother.

“Marius would have the same effect on women, or at least those inclined towards him, which is mostly women,” Marion replied, and Harry blinked before looking away. He had inadvertantly found himself staring at her when she spoke, and shook his head a little to rid himself of the hazy feeling that seemingly overcame him. “I am sorry, Merlin. I normally do not use my abilities in such a way.”

Harry dared not look back in case his father was laughing at him for being drawn to a woman who could have been his mother. However, he had a feeling that perhaps James was not laughing and instead was a serious as ever. At least he hoped that was the case. He still did not look back. He frowned. “But you use your abilities...on...him?”

“In so much as I am able to,” Marion nodded once. Her raven black hair shone against the moonlight as they walked through one of the corridors that allowed the moon to show itself. “As our ancestry are from sirens, we have a leaning towards the darker arts of magic and thus the spells labeled as Unforgivables come more easily to us. We are able to bend such dark spells to our will with the ease that may not come as naturally as to others.”

Harry shuddered a little as he was reminded of the time when he tried to use the Cruciatus Curse on Bellatrix Lestrange as he chased her through the Ministry. Voldemort goaded him that he had to feel it, but even with the hatred that raged through him when Bellatrix killed Sirius, he could not effectively produce the curse to cause her to scream in pain. What Marion was saying...

“So...all this time...?”

“Remus might have told you that we know Crouch Jr. is a spy, and that we are keeping an eye on him. That much is true, but what the Minister does not know is that Marion is effectively keeping him under control,” James murmured behind them.

“But...Dumbledore-” Harry stopped and thought a little. It made so much more sense, why James kept defending Marion to the others, even Dumbledore. It was not because Dumbledore knew Marion was part of the Order of the Ministry – there should have been trust in that – but rather, Marion was his father's personal spy. Far from his father having an affair with Marion, Marion _reported_ to his father, and his father alone. He turned back and looked at his father, seeing him in a whole new light. Fawkes' loyalty to his father, Marion's actions...even James' own actions in the brief times...he wondered how much of it was his father acting or even playacting and how much of it was real. And why the secrecy from Dumbledore?

“James, I think it is time...”

“We didn't know if we could trust you, but I think in light of recent events and actions, perhaps it is time we put our trust in you, especially since you will be the new Dreamer of Hopes,” James said solemnly as they stopped. The irony could not be anymore clearly to Harry as he realized they were at the Astronomy Tower. “There is a third faction, if you will, in this war. We call ourselves the Order of the Phoenix and we do not report to Dumbledore, we report only to the Dreamer of Hopes.”


	23. Lamentations

“So...the Order of the Phoenix does exist here,” Harry whispered mostly to himself.

“Pardon?”

He looked up to see Marion looking shrewdly at him and cleared his throat before glancing at his father. James only nodded, the unspoken words that he implicitly still trusted Marion need not be said. Harry returned the nod with one of his own and he turned back to the female Auror. He slowly let Merlin's features which had been protecting him drop from his own and saw the Auror's eyes widened in surprise, but she did not say anything. He figured she was not easily rattled nor surprised by anything after everything that happened in this world, especially after the Founders' Ball.

“I am Harry James Potter, but not the Black Queen,” he said, staring at her, “he is my counterpart of this world.”

“World?”

“My friends and I came from a different world in early June after we defeated Voldemort in our world,” Harry quickly explained, “we don't know why we were brought here, but back in our world we don't have these entities you call Dreamers. All I know from what the Weavers told us is that they have the ability to send us back, but we're staying for now until our...placeholders I guess, are ready to take on the mantles of the Dreamers.”

“I knew there was something...off about you,” Marion seemingly hedged on the word 'off' but Harry thought she was perhaps being polite. Her cold eyes seemingly turned a little sympathetic and warm, “You have a great task ahead of you, Mer-er, Harry...”

Harry pursed his lips, “I know...but I'm still going to save him.”

A tentative hand falling on his shoulder startled him and he turned to see his father nodding. The hand on his shoulder felt light, almost scared, but Harry fought back tears, a sudden surge of emotion overcoming him at the fact that his father truly accepted the mission he was undertaking. He could feel something akin to warmth from the hand and realized it was the remnants of his father's powers as the Dreamer of Courage. And Harry tried to convey the warmth back – it took courage for his father to accept it, accept the truth of both what he tasked himself to do, but also the acceptance that Harry James Potter of this world was his son. Something must have passed as he saw a small smile on his father's face – the gruff forgiveness spoken to him a couple of weeks ago truly forgiven.

“So...this Order of the Phoenix...you only report to the Dreamer of Hopes? But I thought Dumbledore was Hopes?” he asked, looking at the two of them.

“James,” Marion bowed her head towards the elder Potter who nodded.

“We formed after...certain events forced our hand,” James checked something on his wrist and Harry realized his father wore a very Muggle-contraption, a watch. But he did not have time to puzzle over that oddity as his father met Marion's gaze who nodded. She waved her wand and the ambient noise seemed drowned out, leaving only silence. “It's a version of the _Muffliato_ spell,” his father explained. “We've only got a few minutes.” His father guided Harry to sit on one of the benches at the Astronomy Tower, pushing a telescope to the side. “All Dreamers are connected, Harry,” his father started, “you've seen how Remus summoned your friends from time to time, right?”

“Yeah,” Harry remembered.

“We can feel each others powers, perceptions, even give each other strength when we falter. You saw it with Ginny as Faith, Neville as Justice, even you yourself gave us a boost of Hope when the B-Black...Queen,” his father grimaced, “when the Black Queen came to the Founders' Ball.”

“Okay...”

“After...” James glanced at Marion again who nodded, “after the Veela Attacks of 1983, before I started to lose my powers as Courage, I formed the Order of the Phoenix. At that time, we didn't know what Hopes was supposed to act like and the Weavers would not grant us an audience, saying it was the way of things, the way this was supposed to happen. Many of us thought Hopes was to be used sparingly, like Dumbledore did. We thought he was conserving his power, to shield it against the Dark Lord and also the then-Black Knight. It was Ignotus who alerted me that things were not supposed to be this way.”

Harry blinked, surprised.

“I know,” his father took in his bafflement, “even I had my suspicions as to why a lone Weaver would seek out a Dreamer. They were only to guide us in this war we fought against the Seven Sins of Man. But Ignotus only told me one thing that got me thinking – that it was not supposed to be this way. That things were not supposed to happen, that things were supposed to be different.

“He did not explain anymore, but back then I felt like my eyes were opened somewhat and so I began to look at things differently. I saw things that changed my perspective. I thought that the Dreamers needed to war openly, but when Dumbledore used Hopes so sparingly, I didn't understand why. Why not give Hope to the masses? Give them something to fight for, why not do something about it?”

“Why didn't you say anything?”

“I did,” his father looked away, “believe I did and I tried. But everything was so messed up back then. Your mother...your mother and I just lost you...Eddie, Eddie was just a baby...”

Harry nodded absently. “You had to protect your family.”

“I protected my family,” James' eyes had a glint in them that Harry could not identify. He saw his father rub his nose, his glasses moving up and down for a second before his hazel eyes met his emerald green ones. “You asked me before what happened to myself and Lily...”

“Da-er, James, you don't have to answer-”

“You can call me Dad...” James suddenly looked shy and Harry felt his breath catch. “...you can call me Dad...”

“D-Dad...” Harry tested the word out and while it hurt in such a good way, it also felt so hopeful. “Y-You don't have to-”

“While the story is that we drifted apart like some married couples do, the reality is that as Courage, being able to read and amplify the emotions to carry across the battlefield is useful. I...I drove your Mum to Snape, Harry...” His father's gaze dropped from his own, “Because it was to protect her.”

“...What?”

“I amplified her loss, her sorrow for your, er, your counterpart's supposed death on October 31st, 1981, and drove her into Snape's arms. I knew Snape loved her dearly and I knew that if there was only one other person that could protect her, it would be him. He would not do anything to harm her. And I lost my powers soon after that because it was for selfish reasons that I did that.”

“What? Why? But-”

“Your mother lost Faith,” James looked heartbroken, “and was so close into turning into one of the Seven Sins that I had to do something, anything to make her stay whom she was, to let that moment, however long it took, to pass, to keep her on the side of good because if I lost her...”

“But...” Harry was at a loss for words. He could not comprehend that his mother, the woman to whom everyone talked so much about – how bright she was, how kind she was, how much they adored her, could fall into such despair. “My...death-”

“Not exactly the catalyst, but Faith perceives so much that even my brother, for all of his lore knowledge, does not know what it means to be a Dreamer. Faith is probably the most sensitive, but hardiest of all. To break Faith...” Marion shook her head. “Your mother was my best friend when I had none at Hogwarts. She did not see me as many perceive me and she was there when I needed someone.”

“Your mother...Lily...we thought Faith had broken during that attack on Halloween, but in the aftermath, your mother said that it hope was but candle and the candle was extinguished. I thought it was one of her Muggle sayings, and didn't know what it meant until Ignotus told me that things were not supposed to be that way. I realized Lily meant that the Minister somehow meant watching, that somehow Hopes was being misused, but I didn't know what and how. Her Faith had broken because of the Minister's actions, or lack thereof. Something between the events of Halloween in 1981, the Veela Attacks of 1983, all of it broke your mother and broke Faith. I still don't know what was the catalyst to this day, but I created the Order of the Phoenix to keep an eye on the Minister. If one of our own could be corrupted in such a way, what is it to say that perhaps someone like Hopes, like the Minister, could also fall into the same trap that Salazar Slytherin fell into?”

James fell silent and Harry realized two things. One, his father's sacrifice just to save the woman he loved with all of his heart, resulted in his family being in such a broken state. Two, his father was so afraid, so consumed with fear of losing Lily that as a result he lost his power, lost Courage. Another realization belted Harry around the head – Ignotus Perevell was correct. He frantically queried Merlin and only got silence, as if the Dreamer metaphorically shut the door on him, tight-lipped silence. He wanted to ask the Dreamer if it was true, remembering the last time he talked with Merlin in the waking dream, the Dreamer made a vague allusion to not really wanting to talk about his previous...host.

Albus Dumbledore.

But there had to be a reason why Dumbledore was reluctant to use Hopes' power, why he used it sparingly. Harry did not want to believe parts of what James said, but at the same time, he knew he could not dismiss it so easily. He knew he was heavily influenced by the fact that his father finally was accepting him, and that in of itself made him more willing to listen to him, but seven years of having the truth spoken to him from so many different points of view made him want to seek out the real truth – the real reason why.

He understood that James' underlying reason to create the Order of the Phoenix and have it specifically say it served the Dreamer of Hopes was to protect Lily Potter. Even if his real reason was to keep an eye on Dumbledore as Hopes to watch for the corruption of the so-called 'littlest Dreamer' the leader of the Five Virtues of Man. But at the same time he could not deny what he and his friends recently talked about – namely Fawkes' loyalty. In their world, Fawkes was loyal to Dumbledore and found no other master after the Headmaster's death. In this world, Fawkes was in Dumbledore's office, but instead was apparently loyal to James. Phoenixes chose their masters carefully and wisely. That in of itself lent some credence to James' explanation.

“James, we should continue,” Marion waved her hand, lifting the spell as the ambient noise returned.

His father nodded gruffly before standing up. Harry did too and together the three of them descended the stairs of the Astronomy Tower. He walked in silence, lost in his thoughts. It was clear the Order of the Phoenix in this world was not a freedom-fighting force like in his.

“Who...”

“You should know...” his father looked at him with a mild gaze.

“Padfoot, Wormtail, and Moony,” Harry said his father's friends' nicknames. “But...Professor Lu-”

“It is a fine line he dances,” James looked morose for a moment, talking about Lupin.

“S-Snape?”

“No, though I think he suspects,” his father stated and Harry believed him.

“Is that why...?”

“I look so exhausted from time to time? Maybe yes? Maybe no? I _am_ tired, Harry...” James smiled wanly. “This war...it has dragged on for so long. Eddie and Iris will probably graduate and be drafted into the front lines. Your agemates, students you might have known-”

“...Yeah...” Harry could see why his father had such a bleak outlook. What was it like to grow up in a world that had been at war for the last few decades? To know that your children would be sent to school, albeit a protected school, but to learn spells and knowledge that would be useful on the battlefield? Harry realized he was incredibly lucky to have only truly fought in the war against Voldemort since his Fifth Year. That was three years of fighting, but he had four years of relative peace. Ten years before that in sheer ignorance of his fame, of his name, and of his status.

His father was right to be suspicious of how Dumbledore was using his powers as Hopes and why he created the Order of the Phoenix with the mandate that they were to serve the Dreamer of Hopes. Harry realized his father created it as a way to end the war, to not send the next generation of students into a long an unforgiving war where their lives were only there to fight and nothing more. His father was searching for a way to end the war and was using any means necessary – whether it was having Marion puppet Crouch Jr. or otherwise. Though Harry suspected Marion was doing it for her own revenge, but it was still a means to an end he supposed.

The Dumbledore he knew, dueled Grindelwald and won, effectively ending the dark wizard's reign of terror in 1945. Peace was had for at least a decade, if not nearly two decades before Voldemort started his first reign of terror. This world, Grindelwald was the Dark Lord and either Dumbledore dueled him and lost, or something else happened. Harry suspected the latter rather than the former as Dumbledore still had the Elder Wand. From what he remembered during their search for Horcrux and Deathly Hallows, if Grindelwald won, he would be the owner of the Deathstick. This was a world that perhaps had been at war since 1945 if not earlier. And with the transferring of Dreamer powers...

A disquieting thought occurred to Harry – if the Dreamers had Heirs, did that mean that the war would never end?

He shook his head from that thought, not wanting to think about it at the moment. He would have to ask Merlin perhaps in a dream if the Dreamer was inclined to talk to him at the moment. There was still a feeling of tight-lipped silence from the presence that was in him. Still, Dumbledore had the Elder Wand. The thought of the Deathly Hallow made him think of the Elder Wand that Harry carried upon himself, having been somehow transported from Dumbledore's crypt to here. That thought led to him realizing that he almost forgot why he was here in the first place, trying to find James. He tugged on his father's sleeve.

“Um, I wanted to tell you this without Dumbledore, err, the Minister knowing, since well, I don't know why, but I had another vision-”

“Another-” James stopped, staring at him as did Marion. He blinked, his eyes staring at him with concern. “Another- Harry, what-”

“James-” Marion's voice was tight.

“Merlin,” his father addressed him again and Harry felt the small bit of glamour used to conceal his features wash over him. A few people were in the halls, more patrolling Aurors and more than one nodded to them. Marion's aloof expression was back on her face, her professionalism and demeanor changing in an instant from the warm sense he got from her to icy cold. “Merlin, how many-”

“This is the third one and I see...” Harry looked away before looking back, “I see him, the Black Queen...”

“You need Occlu-”

“I know,” Harry interrupted before his father could suggest Occulmency training. “I know. I've been told by Salazar many times I need the training before Nimue could-”

“Okay, okay,” his father nodded, understanding his point.

“The point is, there will be a small attack force ambushing the Hogwarts Express. They plan to bring Corruptions and Lust with them.”

“What good would it do to bring the Minister of Magic with them?” James quietly wondered out loud. “And the Black Queen?”

“Will probably be there,” Harry said.

“And you don't want to tell the Minister,” James looked at him and Harry nodded.

“I don't know why, but I know that it's something I don't want to tell him,” he could not explain it, but it was a feeling of sorts. While a part of him wondered if it was perhaps something possessing or influencing his mind, another part of him scoffed at the notion. Something was already influencing his mind and it was a magic thing, spirit, remnant called a Dreamer. Something that did not exist in his world. The only thing he knew for a fact that he trusted the instinct to not tell anything to Dumbledore.

They continued in silence before they stopped by the Room of Requirement. It was clear that James and Marion were going to continue their patrol for however long their shift was and Harry was to go to bed. Marion took a quick look around the hall before leaning over to him. “You sound exactly like James when he first talked to me about the Order of the Phoenix.” With that, the Auror resumed her aloof expression and left the two of them standing by the door.

“...Dad?”

His father's expression was more serious than Harry had ever seen. He never saw such pensiveness and realized that far from the last few times he interacted with his father, James was taking things more seriously instead of giving mixed messages to him. It was odd at the same time rather refreshing and heartwarming.

“Thank you, Harry, for letting me know about that...I need...I need some time to put together a small task force, get things going without anyone noticing, but...maybe...do you...do you and your friends mind if a few others know your secret?”

Harry's first instinct was to deny the request, but at the same time he also knew that he could not deny it. Not after what he pledged to do. There was a chance that by the end of everything or come what may, everyone would know who he was. The only question was when and how. That was the control he had. “If you trust them...” he replied. He really did not want some over-eager student or Auror finding out that he was the not!Black Queen and hexing him in an attempt to arrest the Black Queen.

Apparently his father's thoughts were along the same line as his own as James cracked a rare smile. “I promise they won't hex you...”

“All right...will this have anything to do with your planning?”

“Yes, I think...” his father's frown grew deeper before nodding at him. “I have to go, but...”

“Thanks,” Harry impulsively took two steps forward and threw his arms around his father in a hug.

He could feel his father stiffen for a second before returning the embrace and it felt as warm as the moment when his father touched his shoulder at the Astronomy Tower. It gave him hope that his promise to save this world's Harry James Potter would not be so arduous a task.

* * *

The Hogwarts Express was due to leave King's Cross station with new students enrolling at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and returning ones five days after his conversation with James and Marion. There was perhaps once a time Harry would have worried that his father was going to ignore him, but he felt confident this time around that he would not be left out – a measure of trust regained and extended. His father trusted him to tell him of the Order of the Phoenix and in turn, he returned the favor with the knowledge he gleaned from the Black Queen's mind. It was two days before the Express was going to leave when Harry and his friends received their summons by way of Fawkes and a note dropped into their room.

Harry spent the last three days with a contented happy feeling up to the point where Ron wondered if he drank too much liquid luck or even someone had slipped a love potion of sorts into his food. Hermione told him to mind his business and Ginny was the only one who truly got what he was feeling – happy for him while also saying that Selwyn and Faith within her was glad that he and James mended their relationship and came to an understanding. He only told his friends about his meeting with James, but not about the Order of the Phoenix. It was not his secret to share and he suspected that his father wished it so.

“Blimey...this not does not make sense,” Ron held the scrap of parchment up and stared at it.

“Give it here, Ron,” Hermione looked up from where she was reading through the giant tome that Dumbledore gave them the first day they arrived.

Ron shrugged and handed the note over. Harry watched as Hermione read the note, her frown becoming more pronounced before even she looked up. “You're right, it doesn't make sense.”

“Huh?” Harry pushed himself off of the couch he shared with Ginny, having been contentedly curled up with her in front of the fireplace. The two of them were going through the backlog of Daily Prophet articles, Ginny mainly to glean any sort of information that would help them against the Black Queen; Harry wanted to see if there was any information pertaining to his mother's apparently loss of her Dreamer powers and also of the events that triggered the Veela Attacks of 1983. That particular event never happened in their world and he was rather curious about it since his talk.

Hermione handed him the note and he read it. _Step out and step back in where all discarded things are found._

“Ginny?” He handed the note to her.

She read it, her mouth silently saying the words before her eyes lit up and she looked at them. “Oh, I get it. Neville used to do this sometimes last year to keep a few of us safe when the Carrows were looking around and we didn't have time to summon the proper room.”

“Oh! The Room of Requirement,” Hermione picked up, “but what does it mean by that latter half? We have to step out of the room, then think of where things that don't want to be found to summon it and go back in? You really can't have people summoned to a room that exists next to another-”

“Can you?” Harry asked. He was always curious about the Room of Requirement. It seemed Unplottable since it did not show up on the Marauder's Map, but neither did he know of any limitations as to how many rooms could theoretically exist. It was a singular 'Room' of requirement, but what was to say that multiple rooms could instantly appear if more than one student had great need of it at the same time, but for different purposes. “I mean, in our world, it could be just a 'Room of Requirement' but what's not to say that this world is different? The existence of people we never knew about, magic that we don't really know much about...”

“That is a good point,” Ginny nodded, “but there are things that are still the same, like the food. House Elves have to leave us food and we can't get any in this room.”

“What about a Vanishing Cabinet?” Ron spoke up and they all stared at him. His best friend blushed. “What...we did find one in the room when Malfoy used it-”

“That...could make sense. Make sure we find the room, use the Vanishing Cabinet to go somewhere else. It could get away from the existence of two rooms at once...” Hermione looked thoughtful before looking at Ron with something that looked like pride in her eyes. Harry saw him turn redder, almost matching his flaming hair at her gaze.

“So...I guess let's leave and come back?” he suggested and his friends nodded. They took their wands, but left everything else as Harry knew that this was probably a planning meeting and if they were to return to the Room of Requirement in a different form, then the danger of being found out was much lessened.

They soon found themselves outside, the doors to their room dissolving behind them before Harry closed his eyes and walked back and forth three times specifically thinking about the room that his father wanted him to find. On his third pass, a door materialized and Harry recognized the door as the one where he discovered both the Vanishing Cabinet two years ago and Ravenclaw's diadem a few months ago. He opened the door and stepped in, his friends following him as they headed into the cavernous room.

Books, chairs, old furniture and things that smelled musty were piled high. Harry caught sight of a few older brooms, a host of bed cushions that had springs sticking out of them and several flattened pillows scattered about. He was about to draw out his wand when a rather familiar Patronus came into view. It was a stag.

“...Dad...” Harry breathed and the ghostly creature arched its head as if to say 'follow me,' before it trotted deeper into the room.

Harry glanced at his friends and they nodded. The four of them followed the stag past a pile of high cabinets, books attempting to fly free from a deep pile that seemed ever-growing, several squeaking candelabras that looked positively ancient, a few banged up pianos with keys flying in the air making quiet plinking sounds before stopping at a small clearing of sorts among the piles and piles of junk that Hogwarts had accumulated over the thousand years of existence.

A round stone table sat surrounded by the junk, candles floating in the air to illuminate the area. Harry saw his father was there along with Remus, Sirius, Marion, and her brother Marius. Curiously enough, Pettigrew was not there and while Harry was glad, another part of him worried that Wormtail was currently ratting them out. However, he did not ponder too much on the curiosity as he saw Neville's father Frank, Amelia Bones, two men that looked a little like Mrs. Weasley, Snape, and Harry's mother among them.

“I presume Mr. Longbottom couldn't make it?” James spoke up, his voice measured and quiet and Harry realized he had all but forgotten to let the Neville of this world know about his vision. The actual proper Dreamer of Justice.

“Uh-”

“We've notified the Dreamer of Justice, but he was not able to leave his post without suspicion on either side,” Ginny cut in smoothly, her voice overlaid with the regal tones of Selwyn.

Harry squeezed her hand in gratefulness and felt Merlin in his mind chiding him for his forgetfulness. He frowned inwardly – Merlin was one to talk, his Dreamer having been all but silent since the revelation of the Order of the Phoenix and its purpose. He had tried to contact the Dreamer in the twilight of his sleep before he drifted off, hoping to initiate some kind of talk with him, but there was nothing he remembered talking about when he woke up – leading him to assume that Merlin was not talking with him.

“That's a really odd choice of words,” Lily spoke up and Harry felt his breath catch as he remembered what his father asked of him before they parted ways. He realized with Snape and Lily here, James wanted at least the two of them, if not all whom were here to know who they really were.

He swallowed, feeling a sudden nervous flutter in his stomach. What would his mother think? Telling his father, telling Sirius and Remus felt like a relief – even though he didn't know how they would react. So far, Remus was the only one who took it in stride. It took the last few weeks for James to accept it, but Sirius seemed rather indifferent; or at least Harry couldn't get a good read on the man who was supposed to be his godfather. It seemed Sirius was far more preoccupied with his younger brother's death than the fact that he was a different Harry James Potter.

With a belated start, Harry wondered if Pettigrew knew now. He quickly quashed the feeling of anger at the thought of Wormtail knowing that he was the Black Queen's counterpart. He did _not_ know and could not presume that Peter Pettigrew was a spy in this world, even if he did tell Dumbledore. Harry still believed for whatever suspicions James had about the Headmas- the Minister, Dumbledore was a smart wizard and knew how to employ spies or use the information he already gave him regarding his world's spies and so forth.

“Peter is keeping an eye on things for us on the outside so we are not missed,” James replied in kind, explaining the man's absence. Harry was just glad that Wormtail was not here. It still did not answer his question on whether Pettigrew knew, but it was enough to placate Harry.

His father waved his wand and four seats sprang up around the table, inviting them to sit and Harry did so, rather stiffly, still feeling nervous about revealing who he was. He was glad the table was round so he did not have to face one person and instead, was able to see everyone. He wondered if his father made sure it was a round table so that he would be able to see everyone and not feel trapped or boxed in in case someone wished to hex him?

“I've asked all of you to come here tonight not on the Minister's orders, but because of some information I received concerning an attack that will happen in two days,” James started without preamble. Harry was surprised at how measured and quiet his father's voice was – a far cry from the hoarseness and exhaustion each time he had seen him. Apparently his father's demeanor surprised a lot of others as most imperceptibly straightened and stared at James. Marion, Sirius, and Remus were the only ones to not react.

“...I...have not heard of an attack that would take place,” Snape sounded reluctant and was shooting an odd look at James. Harry could only speculate what Snape was making of his father's new attitude.

“That at least confirms something,” James nodded before gesturing to the four of them. “Merlin has been able to discern some of the plan and I trust his judgment. The Minister has not been informed for reasons pertaining to security.”

“You think there are traitors near Dumbledore?” Frank Longbottom spoke up and to Harry he sounded almost exactly like Neville if not for the gruffness and weariness in his tone. In fact, he sounded more like this world's Neville than his own Neville. He wondered if his world's Frank and Alice Longbottom had not been tortured to the point of insanity, would they have been the leaders of the Order of the Phoenix? It seemed like it considering the man's firm look at them.

“When Merlin and his Knights came to our world, there was the almost immediate attack on Lady Selwyn by Hellhounds. That is not a coincidence. Especially since they were followed by Faydes,” James pointed out and the others nodded reluctantly. “The plan to retake Cardiff was nearly betrayed at one point when the wards around the Ronald Dahl Plass almost fell. Those wards were placed up by yourself Frank, and reinforced by Remus. They should not have been able to pick it apart so easily when they are Dreamer reinforced.”

“Point taken,” Frank frowned, his dark hair peppered with white strands falling into his eyes before he brushed it back with a hand.

“There was also the matter of Hestia Jones, one of our best infiltrators who was betrayed and executed soon after our victory at Cardiff,” James continued and frowned, “someone found who she was.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry tried to see if Snape made any reaction to his father's comment, but the man had no expression on his face. Harry was surprised that James did not know betrayed or Hestia, but wondered if his father knew Snape was spying on Grindelwald and Voldemort. It seemed his mother knew so it was perhaps reasonable to surmise that James knew; in that case, it meant his father did not know Snape was the one who outed Hestia and instead thought the leak came from somewhere else. But it also niggled Harry's sense of worry that if Snape could so easily betray a fellow Order member to the Death Eaters, perhaps he let slip to Voldemort and Grindelwald the other events.

Harry still could not get a good read on this world's Snape even though the memories and sympathies he had for his Snape was still fresh in his mind. The only thing he knew bounded the two together was that both Severus Snapes loved Lily Potter.

“I've been attending to the Minister as much as I can, but we do know who the traitor or traitors are,” Remus interjected, looking at everyone. There was power in his gaze and voice and Harry felt it as the Dreamer reassuring and telling the truth to everyone.

Everyone nodded silently, appreciating the reassurance that Remus pulsed to them. Harry saw Ginny frown a little and wondered if she was thinking along the same lines as he was – that this world, this Order, even these people were so fragile in their Faith that they needed, depended on the Dreamers themselves for confidence. It was so bizarre if not for what they experienced in the last couple of months since their arrival.

James cleared his throat. “Merlin says that there is going to be an attack on the Hogwarts Express in two days.”

“But why? The Dark Lord's never attacked the train in all of his years!” one of the two men who were unnamed spoke up, shock written all over his face.

“I...think that's my Uncle Fabian or Gideon, one of them,” Ron leaned over and whispered in his ear, “twins.”

Harry could see the resemblance. Though they looked a little like Mrs. Weasley, they definitely had features that resembled a cross between Bill and Charlie. They did have reddish-brown hair that was the same exact shade as Charlie Weasley's hair. Harry remembered learning that the two died during the first war, murdered by five Death Eaters.

“This is to be carried out by the Black Queen,” James replied and Harry saw Lily stiffen a little at the mention of his counterpart. Snape reached over and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. The others frowned in consternation or thought, but didn't say a word for a moment.

“He's being more...active than he has for the last ten years...sorry, Sirius,” Marius spoke up quietly, his voice thoughtful.

Harry saw both Hermione and Ginny's gazes linger on Marius before they looked away. That certainly confirmed that Marius' half-Veela blood like his sister affected people, but it seemed it only occurred whenever the man talked, similar to when Marion talked.

Sirius silently waved away Marius' apology. Sirius had been very quiet and tight-lipped about the fact that Harry's counterpart had been the one to murder Regulus Black and take over the mantle of Black Queen. Harry even tried to ask him a couple of times when he thought Sirius was perhaps amenable to a conversation, but all he received were deflections and half-smiles. It was still better than James' wishy-washy behavior, but Harry didn't know how Sirius really felt – and he wanted to know. He wanted to make things right with his godfather.

“You tracked the Black Queen's activities?” Snape asked and all heads turned to him before turning back to Marius.

“As much as the Daily Prophet and other papers did,” Marius looked a little indigant, “you all remember the headlines right? Black Rook takes White Knight and so forth?”

“Stop it,” Lily cut in, her mouth in a thin firm line, “that's...that's-”

“Barbaric, but if we didn't know, it wouldn't be,” Marion leaned forward, her hair falling across the shoulder of a dark blue robe she wore. “It would be intelligence gathering, Lily...”

His mother did not answer for a long time before finally nodding and staring down at the stone table. “...I know...”

“Is there any pattern?” Amelia Bones still sounded as neutral as she did when Harry first met her at his Wizengamot trial back in his Fifth Year.

“Not really, though I guess with his age, he probably wasn't that active until maybe...when he was twelve? Something like that. He's only made headlines on average once a year, but those days are random. Sometimes there's like eighteen months that go by before we get a Black Queen related headline or something that probably alludes to the Black Queen, not sure, but I've been looking again using the fact that he's Heir to Fears and trying to see if there's more to his attack and a pattern set.”

“...If I may ask, Auror Sadow, why so interested?” Hermione's voice was overlaid with the deep tones of Rowena Ravenclaw.

“Forgive me, Lady Ravenclaw,” Marius bowed his head a little, “I pride myself on being an amateur historian on the Dreamer lore. I've been studying the Dreamer lore and by extension yourselves, the Knights of Merlin, since my early years at Hogwarts, perhaps even before that. I try to help the Minister in any way I can to try to predict these attacks that may happen when a Dreamer has come or even an Heir declared.”

“Fascinating,” Hermione looked genuinely interested and looked at them. Harry nodded as did Ginny, understanding that Hermione wanted to speak with Marius about his extensive knowledge about the Dreamers and also probably reveal to him who they really were. Harry wondered why his father didn't mention about Marius' knowledge when he revealed himself and the lack of Dreamers in his world, but put the thought out of his mind as he saw that Ron only shrugged at Hermione's enthusiasm.

“But to answer your question Amelia,” Marius seemed happy to share his knowledge, but his expression turned solemn once more, “no pattern as of yet. The last Black Queen attack, or supposed attack was a year and a half ago on some dumpy village in Yorkshire. The one before that was probably six months ago in Hogsmeade, now that I think about it, the time when the villagers looked like they were all just fearful of anything and everything, including the sun and even pygmy puffs?”

“Dumbledore called it a botched potion experiment of sorts...you think it may have been the Black Queen?”

“Probably to test his powers or maybe do something? Maybe,” Marius shrugged, “I'll have to look at the papers again and read the eye-witness accounts.”

“I will see if I can provide you with evidence from the London Ministry,” Amelia nodded, a wolfish looking smile on her face. Harry had never seen her with such an expression before – she was definitely very different than the one in his world.

“So these attacks, twice in the last three months, you think he's stepping up his game?” The other Prewett twin spoke up and Harry could not tell whether it was Fabian or Gideon. They looked even more alike than Fred and George could ever.

“But to attack the train? Even I would have thought the Dark Lord or Black King would not stoop to such a level,” the other twin replied shaking his head.

“...What do you mean?” Harry could feel Merlin coloring his words and changed them to a more polite version of 'I don't get it.'

“Oh...I see,” Hermione looked at him, “the Muggle-borns and maybe some of those who are Half-bloods. Most of them are here at Hogsmeade except for some of the First Years. Those who return on the train are probably the Pure-bloods.”

“For the most part, yes,” Amelia replied, “which is counter to what the Black King has had the Minister of Magic write into policy. He wishes for a Pure-blood world and would not harm those who can prove their blood status unless they are considered blood traitors. Even then, it is hard for him to justify their deaths due to the Founders' Ball.”

“So it's safe to presume that the Black Queen may be after First Years? The Muggle-born or Half-blooded First Years?” Frank asked.

“Yes, but with the Dark Lord's consent?” Amelia shook her head.

“Perhaps it is with the Dark Lord's consent, but not of the Black King's,” Snape said quietly, silencing everyone.

“Snape?” James prompted, but Harry noticed it was with some reluctance. He realized his father knew that Snape was a spy in the Death Eater ranks, but did not want to expose him to others who did not know.

“I hate to agree with him, but he's got a point,” Sirius spoke up, bringing everyone's gaze to him. “When Regulus...when he was, well, when he was the Black Queen, he did mention during the time Voldemort was the Black Knight, but not the Minister, he would be very active about making sure the policy regarding blood status was followed to the letter. He even actively made sure that once the Hogwarts Express was 'purged' so to speak of all those who were not blood-worthy, it could leave Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. I remember my time there and from Regulus' reports that the Dark Lord would occasionally goad him into doing better, that the Black Knight would usurp his position as Black Queen if he did not do something better. We all know the Black Queen is the Dark Lord's assassin, their right hand.”

“So why would he sabotage his underling's efforts by telling one of his other chess pieces to do the exact opposite or even do better?” Ron asked, thoroughly confused. Harry was also starting to get confused too. He thought it would have been an easy planning session, but it seemed that they wanted to analyze the information he gave to James.

“He wasn't,” Remus interrupted. All heads turned to him. “He was trying to find a proper Heir. Who could bring the most Fear out of the populace...”

“That's how Dreamers find Heirs? That's something no Dreamer lore has ever recorded or learned about. Every single Dreamer has been tight-lipped-” Marius looked giddy, but a glare from his sister and a couple of dark looks shot at him made him shrink back in his seat and his expression tried to turn into one of solemn concern.

“It would make sense,” James shrugged, “Remus?”

“This attack could be acknowledged by the Dark Lord and not made known to the Black King as you had said, Merlin, the Black Queen is the Heir to Fears and so it would seem prudent he show the Dark Lord what he's capable of as an Heir.”

“But we knew the Black King lost his powers as Corruptions before this current Black Queen took over,” Marius spoke up. Harry winced at the crassness of the statement as did others. A second later the Auror seemed to realize what he said and winced, looking at Sirius. “I'm so, so, sorry...I didn't-”

“...It's...fine,” Sirius was obviously trying not to completely lose it in front of the others, but his composure was far from calm.

“If your theory holds true, Remus, mind you, then that is a serious boon to us. To have both Black King and Queen fighting amongst themselves...we need to exploit this,” Amelia's eyes flashed with a hungry look. It looked so foreign on the woman he knew to be a witch with a good sense of justice like Shacklebolt. It made sense that her daughter Susan was in Slytherin in this world. He would be at least ten galleons that Amelia Bones had graduated from the same house.

“We need to save those on the train!” Lily said sternly, glaring at Amelia, “not let them get killed.”

“Of course,” Amelia bowed her head a little in apology, but her tone was anything but, “I mean in terms of intelligence this is a boon.”

“Suffice to say, he's probably going after the First Years then? Or if the Black Queen is trying to prove himself you think he'll incur the wrath of the Black King?” Gideon or Fabian asked.

“We'll protect everyone,” Ginny frowned at them, “it does not matter.”

“Actually, it does, Lady Selwyn,” James pointed out, “it will only be us and even then, it may be less than the people we have here.”

“We will protect everyone,” Ginny repeated, “have Faith.”

It seemed her words reminded everyone that they had two full Dreamers in the room with them. His father seemed invigorated as he pushed his glasses up in a gesture reminiscent of Harry's own from time to time before nodding.

“Right then,” James started, “I was told that besides the Black Queen, the Dreamer of Lust and Corruptions may be there.”

“The Minister of Magic...attacking the train...along with the harlot Lestrange, Black, whatever she calls herself these days,” Amelia commented.

“I think it would seem prudent that if the Black Queen is attacking, they would do it at the vulnerable point here on the path to Hogwarts,” James flicked his wand and a map appeared with the route the Hogwarts Express took from London to Hogwarts. The map stopped at the point where Harry recognized the long bridge that led into a sharp ravine. It was where the Dementors stopped the train before when they were searching for Sirius Black back in his Third Year.

“Gideon, Fabian, since you guys are the strongest with defensive spells, I want you to reinforce the bridge however much you can. Do it a few hours before the train leaves the station so they don't discover the spells too early. Marion, Sirius, go with them to make sure they're not ambushed by the Death Eaters looking to weaken the bridge point.”

“Got it,” Sirius nodded, looking at the map.

“Remus, Lady Selwyn, I suggest that both of you take either end of the train in case anything happens. The rest of us will fill out in the middle. We'll board the train with the rest of the students. The Death Eaters will probably do the same. If you suspect any, neutralize them. They could be in polyjuice potion, have charms on them to ward away your gaze. You are wand-free to use any means necessary to ensure that by the time we get to the bridge, the Death Eaters are mostly neutralized.”

“They might not put most of their forces on the train, James,” Frank pointed out.

“Precisely,” his father agree before pointing at Amelia, “Amelia, you're going to have to sit this one out-”

“But James-”

“I need you at the London Ministry. You'll play counter intelligence on this one. We need to know who at the Ministry might be sending their Death Eater Aurors or even Unspeakables on this.”

“Two days isn't a lot of time, James,” Amelia looked rather put out.

“Use your Slytherin charm, Amelia,” James cracked a crooked smile and Amelia stared at him.

“You didn't say that to me, did you?”

“Yeah, because Slytherins don't have charm, sorry, forgot whom I was talking to,” James replied just as sarcastically and Amelia smiled wolfishly. Task assigned, he turned to Lily and Snape. “I need the two of you here. I'm sure you know the reason why.”

To Harry's surprise, the two of them nodded and didn't question his orders. Harry would have expected Snape to protest, but it seemed the other man understood that he could not go and defend the train without exposing his position as a spy. Harry's admiration for his father's foresight grew. He also realized that he truly did not know what his father was like until tonight – the planning, the direction, everything was done in such a way that it made something in him hurt with the pain of longing. He briefly wondered what James Potter would have been like if he grew up with him in his world. Perhaps one of the best Aurors and tacticians...

“Any questions?”

“Auror Potter,” Hermione spoke up, raising her hand a little before she lowered it with a blush at the amused stares she received, “how will we identify one another on the train?”

“I will explain that after this meeting,” James replied before looking back at the others. “Questions?”

“You're not going to have us sign a magical binding contract like the Granger girl did to those who served in Dumbledore's Army? No snitches?” Marius asked, in a joking tone, but it seemed the joke fell flat as a few glared at him while Marion slapped him none too gently on the hand.

“That was a stupid question. You obviously wouldn't be here if you weren't trusted you dolt,” Marion hissed at her brother as the others took it as their cue to leave and started to get up.

“Lily, Severus, can the two of you stay?” Remus called out and Harry glanced to see his mother and Snape both sit back down, puzzled expressions on their faces. He glanced at James who nodded once. Harry realized what his father wanted to do and turned to his friends.

“Do you guys...mind?” he whispered, indicating with his head towards his mother and Snape.

“Oh...um...” Hermione grimaced before nodding her asset. Ron shrugged and Ginny only reached out to squeeze his shoulder before they sat back down. The others looked curiously at them, but filed out quickly enough. Soon only the four of them, James, Sirius, Remus, Lily, and Snape were left at the stone table.

“Remus,” James said quietly and Harry watched as his former teacher muttered the _Muffliato_ spell. A pleasant buzzing sound filled the air.

“Potter,” Snape drawled quietly.

His father ignored Snape's calling of his name and instead fixed Harry with a look. Harry nodded his head once, indicating that his father could tell Snape and Lily whom they really were.

“Merlin was able to discern the Black Queen's intentions...but in a rather unusual method that I believe you, Snape, was the only one who has experience in your former capacity?”

Harry and the others looked at Snape whose lips thinned and he seemed troubled. Lily had a frown on her face as she absently grasped his fingers and she looked at James. “James, if you think-”

“Lily-”

“How long did you know, Potter?” Snape's voice was unusually steady, but there was something akin to fear and danger flashing through his eyes. Harry could sense no hostility from the Potions master, but he saw Sirius, even Remus stiffening.

“A while now,” his father seemed undisturbed, “but it isn't the point of this. Can you or can you not _see_?”

“I...can...though limited,” Snape's hostility did not seem to decrease, but the dangerous feeling passed. “Something not to be done or spoke of in polite company, Potter.”

“You have an Heir?”

“No.”

“Good, then you can teach him some of the basics,” James jerked a thumb at Harry and Harry frowned. This was not what he expected.

“D-er, James,” he felt Merlin hurriedly coloring his words. “Occulmency-”

“Will help,” his father finished, “we don't know if he's able to look in as you're able to look in to his mind.”

Harry frowned, unhappy. He knew his father had a point – this was so much different than when he and Voldemort shared their mutual connection that ended up tricking him in his Fifth Year or even when he was on the hunt for Horcruxes. It was him randomly slipping into the other Harry's mind and seeing it as if he was in his body. He could feel Harry's feelings and they were not like Voldemort's – extreme happiness, furious anger. His lighting bolt scar did not flare up in pain nor did he feel like he was angry the whole time. He did not even know if the other Harry could slip into his own mind and see into his life, this very meeting or otherwise. Considering how _powerful_ his counterpart was as only an Heir to the Dreamer of Fears, and the differences of magic in this world, there were so many unknown variables that he knew his protest against Occulmency lessons was feeble.

He felt Hermione's sharp elbow jab him in the side and gave her a look to which she returned with an equal one. He hated that she was right this time – he should have approached Snape earlier, immediately after apologizing, for Occulmency lessons. But he still could not shake off what he saw when Snape all but betrayed Hestia Jones to Voldemort and Grindelwald.

“...Fine,” he groused, feeling very much like a child being told off. He missed the flash of consternation that went through his father's eyes.

“This doesn't explain-”

“Harry,” for a second Harry thought nothing of Hermione saying his name, but then realized that what should have been Rowena's deep tones influencing Hermione's voice was all but gone. He looked up and saw that whatever glamour she had over her was also not present. He shot a quick look around as Hermione gathered up her courage again. “Harry is able to randomly see into the B-Black Queen's mind since...since the Founder's Ball. We think it's because maybe it has something to do with well...him being Harry...”

Harry met Hermione's gaze and then looked around at both Ron and Ginny who nodded. They were ready. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, allowing Merlin to slowly remove the glamour that he cast over his features. He stared at the stone table, unwilling to look at his mother. Hermione swallowed audibly and continued.

“I'm Hermione Granger and we're,” she gestured to all four of them, “we're not from your world. We're from a different world.”

Harry jumped a little as he heard a small noise from his mother. He really did not want to see her reaction and furious traced his eyes over the patterns on the table. He remembered how distraught she was to find out that her eldest son did not die and instead was fighting against her, was the Black Queen, and ultimately the Heir to the Dreamer of Fears.

“A different world...” Snape's voice was flatter than Harry ever heard. He risked a peek up and saw the Potions master staring at him with a look that made him immediately throw up the best shielding he could from any attempts at Legilimency even though he agreed to take Occlumency lessons from him just seconds ago. He _hated_ that look.

“We're not really sure, but the Headmaster-er, the Minister thinks that maybe it's because we just defeated Voldemort in our world that tore some kind of dimensional rift of sorts that landed us here. We talked with the Weavers and they did say that they would send us back since we didn't belong here, but...we...uh...we're staying because we wanted to help and...”

“...I did say I was going to save him...” Harry murmured quietly as Hermione faltered. “I still am...”

“We made our decision and the only way we can go home now is to align ourselves with our counterparts in this world,” Ginny took over, and underneath the table, Harry felt her reaching out to grasp his hand and he met hers with a grateful one of his own. She squeezed it gently in support.

“The Longbottom boy,” Snape stated and Ginny nodded.

“The Weavers said something about magical cores aligning and entropic cascade failure,” Hermione said before biting her lip, “I...I must confess that I don't know too much about that subject...even if I did study Muggle books during my summers-”

“...I'll...help,” Lily's voice was so quiet, almost a whisper, but it cut through like a sharpened knife. “Y-You...need my...h-help...” She took a deep shuddering breath before abruptly pushing her chair back and stood up. “I'm s-sorry...I...I c-can't-”

Harry caught the glistening of tears in his mother's eyes as she ran quickly away.

“Wait! Lily-” Snape was half way out of his chair to chase after her when Harry felt the swooping feeling of jealousy and anger overcome him, the same feeling he had when he yelled at Snape in the dungeons for betraying Hestia among other things.

He pushed his own chair back, beating Snape by a hairsbreadth. “I'll go,” he said and before anyone else could say anything, he left, hurrying towards the direction Lily fled.

It took several twists and turns among the piles of junk and old stuff that he finally found his mother standing by what looked like reams of old marked parchments. His mother stood with her arms wrapped around her and her shoulders and tresses of hair shook with her silent tears.

Harry stopped a few feet behind her, not knowing what he should say to comfort her. He was reminded of her reaction after the Founders' Ball where she had all but collapsed to the ground, overcome by the knowledge that her son, _her_ Harry James Potter was alive.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he missed her turning around until he saw a flash of dark red hair out of the corner of his eyes before he was suddenly engulfed in a bone-crushing hug. He stiffened for a second before he instantly returned the hug, the feeling of love of overwhelming joy, of sorrow all rolling around him. He wanted this for such a long time and thought he could not have it – until now.

“My boy...my Harry...” his mother whispered.

But who was he to replace the real Harry James Potter of this world?


	24. Battle at the Hogwarts Express

If there was one thing very useful regarding the Dreamer in Harry, it was the ability to cast any type of glamour upon himself that only altered his appearance enough to deceive those that might have seen him at the Founders' Ball as he boarded the Hogwarts Express. He arrived with Ginny on his arm, the two of them pretending to be Gryffindor Seventh Years talking nonsensically about Quidditch. Harry learned that there had been matches played the previous year while he was Horcrux hunting. The matches were heavily in favor of Slytherin House. Ravenclaw obviously placed second while Hufflepuff was third and Gryffindor fourth. None dared to contradict the scoring after the first time when the Carrows punished the Gryffindor team unilaterally and on the spot to the point where the team had to forfeit their match against Ravenclaw.

Snape, of all people, was the one who stopped the Carrows, snidely complaining that he did not want to write letters to the teams' parents if they died. Knowing what he knew now about Snape, it put a whole new light into the former Potions professor's actions. Though it was an attempt by Snape to protect the students, Harry still did not know how he felt regarding the other man's occasional punishment or action – still finding them somewhat petty. But he did not deny that Snape handily ridding the Carrows during his flight from the school was a great boon.

Harry left Ginny at the brake van of the train, per James' plan of action, pretending to daydream about watching the back of the train leave the station. Harry then moved through the cars and found himself bumping into two porters loading up the luggage and pet cages. His father winked from underneath his disguise while Ron helped him. Further up the train, near the locomotive, he found Frank in the disguise of a wizard-engineer taking his turn with another wizard-engineer to heat the engine with what looked like pieces of continuously burning wood. Frank growled at him for being a nosy Seventh Year, but pointed subtly with his wand to where Remus was.

His former teacher was apparently sleeping. In the first car after the engine.

Harry stared for a moment, transfixed by scene before him before Remus opened his eyes and stared at him.

“What can I help you with, young man?” Remus' expression was as mild as the first time he ever met the man and Harry looked up to see that Remus indeed had brought his trunk with the RJL initials on it. Harry smiled as he dropped his disguise for a brief second to reveal to Remus who he was. He almost forgot that Remus was a professor at Hogwarts and like his counterpart, probably traveled on the Hogwarts Express from his home to the school. Probably the simplest and best disguise any of them could think of. No student would bat an eye at the fact that Remus was on the Express and if anyone told the Death Eaters that the Dreamer of Temperance was on the train, it would not be seen a suspicious.

“Ah, well, I best make sure I'm presentable to those coming on board,” Remus pretended to yawn as he took Harry's appearance as a sign that they were about to depart. Just seconds after he spoke, the whistle blew twice into the air before the train lurched into motion. Harry grabbed onto the side of the door as the wheels caught onto the tracks and smoothed out.

“Come, sit, young man, sit,” Remus invited him in with a pat and Harry frowned, but did as his former professor asked.

“The attack will not come, at the earliest, an hour after we leave the station. Too many eyes, especially if the Black Queen is determined to provoke the Black King,” Remus leaned over and whispered before sitting back as he settled in his seat.

Harry nodded, a little nervous. He was not used to plans like this, having gone from one battle to another without much planning and by his wits and friends' help alone. The only semblance of planning was infiltrating the Ministry to get to Horcrux locket and also the Hufflepuff cup in Bellatrix Lestrange's vaults. Even then, they had not planned to fight their way out. This was completely new to him.

Remus smiled briefly at him. “Nervous?”

“...I...didn't...” Harry licked his lips and started over again, “most of my fights were spontaneous and not thought out. It was mostly about survival... The only one I really remember planning is probably the Tri-wizard Tournament. Even then, the maze for the last task, didn't really have a plan except go in the direction that was given to me.”

“You participated in the Tri-wizard Tournament? But that was only for-”

“Those who were seventeen or up, yeah,” Harry shook his head, “someone, probably Crouch Jr. disguised as Mad-Eye that year, my Fourth Year, put my name in the cup.”

Remus' eyebrow rose, almost disappearing into his thin wispy hairline. “...Harry...” he whispered. Harry could not tell whether the whisper was in awe or horror, but was saved from saying anything as the Trolley Witch passed by.

“Treats from the Trolley?” the old crone looked at them and Harry was about to pass when Remus stood up, pulling a couple of sickles and a galleon from his robes.

“Please give this to the porters with my compliments, would you Miss Honeydukes?” Remus dropped the money into the old witch's hands, “and also, a Pumpkin Pasty and small glass of butterbeer please.”

“Coming right up, Professor,” the witch nodded and pocketed the galleon before serving up Remus' order. Harry realized it was Hermione disguised as the Trolley Witch. He nodded to her and she nodded back before leaving to continue serving the others on the train.

“How did you-”

“Focus on your powers, let the Dreamer work with your senses and as an extension of yourself,” Remus bit off the corner of his pasty before setting it to the side. “It will work with you, but if you are actively resisting or if you have doubts, it will not seek you out.”

“But I'm not-”

“Just calm your mind Harry,” Remus said softly, reaching out with a hand, “breathe in and breathe out...there...”

Harry did as he said, taking deep breaths as he stared at no point in particular. He thought about closing his eyes, but he knew an attack could come any time and so discarded that idea rather quickly. He calmed his mind and could feel something niggling in the back, and absently grasped it. It felt as smooth as the Invisibility Cloak, seemingly rippling in the water of his mind and he imagined it to be something like that. The ripples grew larger and he could feel the trickle of power flow in him, washing away his fatigue, washing away his nervousness. There was a presence of sorts, one that felt comforting, familiar, a calmness about him that he realized was Remus. But it seemingly hummed and buzzed the back of his teeth like a harmonic melody that only he could hear and feel. It was a very unusual sensation.

Harry realized it was the Dreamer of Temperance's powers that created the feeling and pushed gently at it with the power that he felt like was rippling water. However, the feeling seemingly fell from his fingers, and he could only grasp bits and pieces, droplets-

“Don't push it, Harry,” Remus cautioned with a smile, “you have not awakened yet. Don't force it otherwise, it will disappear again.”

Harry nodded wordlessly and did not try as hard to grasp onto the trickle that felt like mental droplets of water. It did remind him of the Invisibility Cloak at times and it comforted him. Instead, he let the small droplets seemingly pulsate within him and pushed a small one gently towards Remus.

“Thank you,” Remus replied, and Harry looked up to see that his professor looked more awake, more refreshed. “That was welcomed, more than the pumpkin pasty and butterbeer I ordered.”

Harry released the mental droplets and felt the Dreamer within him warm in response. He still had not been able to talk to Merlin, but perhaps this was a new start to healing whatever rift might have occurred that stopped the Dreamer from talking with him. The last few days felt a little lonely without the Dreamer's reassuring presence or amusing commentary and anecdotes from time to time. Even though Merlin had given him a few hints to get by and helped colored his words whenever those who did not know who he was, was around, it still felt different – like a cool indifference.

 _I am sorry if I have ignored you,_ as if attuned to his thoughts, the Dreamer spoke up in Merlin's quiet voice. Harry smiled a little outwardly. He saw Remus laugh quietly before sitting back to enjoy his pasty and butterbeer, seemingly understanding what had just happened.

 _Will you tell me what happened with Albus Dumbledore?_ Harry asked.

 _Perhaps..._ There was clearly still some reluctance in Merlin's tone, but Harry could feel the presence open a little and seemed amenable to a potential discussion. _But not now...now we protect._

“I'll check on the others,” Harry spoke up as he stood up and nodded a goodbye to his former professor.

“Keep practicing, Harry, your unique gifts give you more insight than others,” Remus said. The unspoken ' _use it to your advantage_ ' need not be said as Harry slid the door close. He glanced to his right and saw that Frank was taking a break, sweat beading across the stocky, set man's face. However, the man looked set and alert and with a discreet nod, fingered his wand, twirling it in a show of unconcern.

Harry turned to his left and started making his way through the cars of the train. He took heed of Remus' words and absently grasped at the power that felt like the silky liquid of his Invisibility Cloak. As he felt the first droplet, something different happened and Harry thought he _saw_. The four Ravenclaw Fifth Years that he just passed by seemingly lit up, but it was like an aura of sorts that surrounded them. It was eerily similar to one of Trelawney's early Diviniation lessons, but instead of colors, Harry felt a small trickle of emotion that he knew was definitely not his own – _surprise, laughter, humor, tinged with nervousness – O.W.L.s this year. Bits of fear trickled through one of the Ravenclaws, she heard rumors-_

Harry felt the droplet fall through his mental hands and the feeling immediately disappeared. He was pleasantly surprised as it was not what he expected, but at the same time, immediately picked up on the reason why he was able to break through the Black Queen's fear-induced hold on the party's guests during the Founders' Ball. He had intuitively grasped the power like a sledgehammer and battered his way through. This was more akin to learning and training instead of reacting on instinct.

Harry continued on, occasionally grasping the fleeting powers gently, never forcibly and letting it go when he had the feeling that it wanted to go. It gave him some interesting insights into the emotions of those in the cars he passed. Some were obviously fearful, worried about the summer's news, but others seemed rather unconcerned, school and learning first and foremost on his mind. They were mostly those who were not due to graduate Hogwarts, and the Sixth and Seventh Years he had yet to encounter. He reached the halfway point of the train, a car that contained a feature he never seen on the Express before – a food car.

Harry did not remember seeing the car as he walked the length of the train before it departed the station.

“Well? What will it be, laddie?”

Harry nearly jumped in surprise at what was unmistakably his father's voice, but it looked certainly nothing like James standing behind the bar of the food car. He looked different than his porter disguise.

“I...uh...” Harry went over and pretended to look at the menu.

“I take it there was no food car on your Hogwarts Express? It only appears when we've left the station,” James whispered as he leaned over and seemingly pointed out the features in the menu.

“No,” Harry's eyes darted left and right, trying to find Ron, but saw no sign of his best friend.

“Ron's dealing with disposing a Death Eater in the back,” James murmured before stepping back and said loudly, “All right, laddie, one clabbert soup with some bowtruckle dippings,” James set about making his food, “come back in about fifteen minutes and it should be ready!”

“Thanks,” Harry understood the message – in fifteen minutes they would either be approaching the bridge or they would be far enough away from London that the Black Queen would potentially attack. He continued on his way, headed towards the back of the train. He wanted to find Ron and ask him which of Voldemort's Death Eaters did they catch – perhaps hoping to gain some insight as to how the attack may go. If someone like Yaxley was there, it potentially signaled a more aggressive attack style, or if it was someone like Dolores Umbridge and her lot, it was perhaps less aggressive and more subversive.

From what Harry could gather, the others knew who the Dreamer of Lust and Corruptions were, but it did not help him to formulate a strategy or anything that could provide some insight for James' planning. If Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy were anything like his world's versions, then they were complete opposites in terms of attack strategy. Bellatrix was insane, aggressive, and hungry whereas Lucius was cautious, hesitant, but always chose to attack in a methodical way – and even then, when victory was assured. The two choices literally canceled out any type of strategy the Black Queen may have-

Unless that was the point.

Harry frowned before out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something familiar. A flash of red hair, two red heads, a long bushy one, and light blonde hair. Harry stopped, staring for a moment at the sight of this world's Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and Luna all sitting in one section. He would have thought that both Ron and Hermione graduated and did not need to be on the train...

“Still don't understand why you had to come along Ron, you too Hermione,” Ginny groused, looking unhappy. Beside her, Luna had her usual dreamy look.

“Oh, hello,” she called out and Harry blinked before he realized she was addressing him.

“...Hello...” he muttered, feeling embarrassed. He did not mean to stop and stare, but he could not help it.

“...Who are you?” Ron, this world's Ron Harry reminded himself, had a hand in his robes and Harry realized the realized that both Ron and Hermione had graduated, but decided to come on the train to _protect_ both Ginny and Luna. Either on their own or by the Order of the Ministry he did not know.

“Uh...I'm...” Harry faltered as he did not know what to call himself, “I'm Barny, uh, Barny Emrys, Seventh Year-”

“Not Gryffindor House judging by your emblem and I know all of the Seventh Years,” Ginny spoke up, her eyes narrowing shrewdly. The four in the cabin all stared at him and Harry realized he was caught out in his disguise. He swore five kinds of Uncle Vernon's favorite swears inside his head at his mistake. At the same time, directed the same swears to the four sitting in the car – they were certainly too smart for their own good.

“I...uh...” Harry cast his mind out frantically and instinctively grasped the liquid-like droplets that he was beginning to associate with his Dreamer power to see if he could reverse the clear sign of hostility he felt from them – to give them hope, maybe hint to them who he really was without letting everyone else know-

Harry felt his breath catch as he felt something terribly _wrong_.

The wrongness was behind him.

He turned, even though every single instinct told him not to turn away from Ron and the others who were surely about to hex him and stared into the cabin across from the ones his friends' counterparts were sitting in. Two Hufflepuffs he vaguely recognized and one Ravenclaw were sitting in the car. But the sense of wrongness came from the Ravenclaw, a Seventh Year judging by how old she looked.

“Yes?” the Ravenclaw asked, staring at him as if he sprouted a new head.

“Oi! You-”

Harry ignored Ron's outburst as he shot his hand out and _pushed_. The burst of power to get rid of the wrongness immediately hit the Ravenclaw and pinned her against the wall of the car. Harry _pulled_ and her face suddenly blotched and went through a reverse transformation that indicated the Ravenclaw took polyjuice potion. Not even a second later, the familiar visage of Alecto Carrow appeared, still pinned to the wall by an invisible force.

“What-”

Harry dropped his disguise, letting Merlin's features settle over his own and glanced back at the others as he kept his hand extended outward towards the Carrow sister.

“...Merlin...” Hermione and Ginny breathed at the same time while Luna only smiled as if she had already figured it out. If this Luna was the same as his Luna, Harry was pretty sure that she _did_ figure it out before the other three.

“What-”

“You two,” he turned back and addressed the Hufflepuffs.

“L-Laura...Laura Madley. T-This is Kevin Whitby, m-my friend,” the girl spoke up, and the mute boy merely nodded. Both looked wide-eyed and frightened. “T-Thank you...thank you for saving us-”

“Go with Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Luna,” Harry ordered and they scampered out quickly.

“W-What will you-”

“Luna,” Harry called out.

“Yes, Merlin?” her voice was dreamy, but she sounded willing.

“Find Godric,” Harry caught himself in time to stop himself from saying Ron's name. “He's disposing of another Death Eater in the back.”

“I'll bring him here,” Luna said before the flash of blonde hair out of the corner of Harry's eyes told him that she had done as he asked.

He looked at Carrow as she struggled silently against the invisible bonds he placed on her. In his mind, it was like a blanket that he smothered over her, holding her in place and he saw her scream, her wild eyes wide with fury. He saw her mouth curses at him, struggling to pound silently against the invisible force that pinned her to the wall of the car.

“Hey...uh...”

“Shh, Ron! Can't you see he's concentrating?!” Hermione hissed at Ron, “come on, you take the head of the car, I'll move over here.”

Out of the corner of Harry's eyes, he saw Hermione move to his left, her wand drawn as she adopted an alert stance, and stood in the middle of the hallway, clearly set to prevent anyone from coming towards them. She drew out her wand and seemingly tapped the air with it as it shimmered in front of her. Harry smiled as he glanced to the other side and caught Ron mirroring Hermione's movement – both were casting Disillusionment charms to prevent any curious eyes from setting on him.

“Are you going to hold her there the whole time?” Ginny's voice spoke up behind Harry and she stepped forward, moving just ahead as she pointed her wand straight at Alecto Carrow. There was a flinty look in her eyes, the same look that Harry saw when his Ginny was fighting in the Battle for Hogwarts mere months ago.

“Ginny-”

Ginny turned to look at him, puzzled, “How do you know my name?”

“Er...y-your father, Arthur, he and I were talking during the Founders' Ball,” Harry reminded himself that this world's Ginny Weasley was _not_ the woman he loved, nor the same Ginny he fell in love with – even though she looked exactly like his Ginny. “You look similar to your brother Ron, so I assumed-”

Ginny made a noise that could have sounded like it was an agreement, but Harry had the feeling that it was anything but that. Instead, Ginny turned back, wand still steadily pointed at the Carrow sister. Alecto Carrow's eyes looked like it was about to pop from her skull, still furiously and silently mouthing curses, spells, something at them. It was so eerie at the same time disturbing.

“I was kidnapped, back in my first year at Hogwarts,” Ginny suddenly started without preamble. “Tortured, branded, here-” She pulled on the collar of her shirt to reveal a horrific scar that puckered with raised skin and shone a milky white and transluscent. Harry realized it was a burn mark, and one that he did not know how far extended across Ginny's body as he did not see any edges to the mark. “-and this very woman was the one to do that, the bitch.”

Harry frowned, both saddened and appalled to hear that even this world's Ginny Weasley did not escape unscathed in her first year at Hogwarts; but instead of being mentally tortured by the Horcrux of Tom Riddle, this Ginny Weasley was physically tortured. He did not know he had reacted to Ginny's story until he heard a creaking sound and turned back to see part of the window that Carrow's arm was pinned to had a rather large crack in it.

Carrow herself's eyes had bulged, but it was not in anger, but in pain and surprise. Harry blinked and instinctively lessened the pressure he pinned her to the wall against, making her seemingly gasp silently in relief. He flicked a look down to Ginny who stared at him with a raised eyebrow.

“...I don't know why I told you that when I never told anyone, including my family. Only my Mum and Dad know because they took care of me after I escaped, but somehow something was telling me to tell you that...” Ginny murmured before looking back at Carrow. “Maybe because you reacted like that,” her words had a pleasurable tinge to it and Harry frowned.

“I'm not letting you kill her, Ginny,” he cautioned. This Ginny was definitely different than his Ginny. His Ginny threw spells at her opponents without mercy, but would never stoop to killing. He could sense that this one would use the Killing Curse on her tormentor without a second thought. It was clear that she had little faith in the justice and outcome of this war. Harry realized he was not the only one who faced an insurmountable task of aligning their cores with their counterparts in this world.

“Then why are you holding her there and not doing anything?” Ginny's voice was rather calm, almost unemotional. It was as if she did not care whom she hurt and it disturbed Harry the way she was acting.

“How did you escape?” he asked instead, trying to figure out why this Ginny was so, so very different.

“A young boy helped me. Never knew what he looked like, only heard his voice when I was a prisoner. He helped me escape. I think he was probably one of the Death Eater's children. Maybe it was Draco Malfoy, or one of the Slytherins. Don't know about that lot, but someone helped me. All I remember is that the boy had nice eyes, kind eyes.” Ginny lowered her wand as several footsteps were heard.

Harry turned his head to see both his father, sans disguise, and Ron – or at least Godric – hurrying from opposite ends. Ron and Hermione both lowered their wands to let them through before raising them again, re-casting the spell.

“I felt-”

“Luna said-” both of them started before they looked at what he was holding his hand up for.

“Ah, that's where Alecto went,” James said grimly as he moved past Ginny, “Miss Weasley.”

“Auror Potter,” Ginny nodded in respect, taking a step back, clearly knowing that with James here, she would not get her chance to kill the Carrow sister.

“James?” Harry felt Merlin's annoyance at trying to cover him from saying 'Dad' instead. He only gave the Dreamer presence a mental shrug and felt it seemingly roll its eyes back at him, mildly annoyed.

“Godric and I caught Alecto's brother Amycus trying to hex Rowena while she was making her way down the train as the Trolley Witch,” James replied, “I felt the burst of your powers with my remnant ones when you used it against Alecto here. Good job, by the way.”

“Thanks.” Harry thought that with his arm stretched out for this long, seemingly channeling and pinning the Death Eater to the wall, it would have felt tired, but somehow it did not. It felt right in the oddest sense, that he knew instinctively this was what he was supposed to do.

James held his wand aloft and looked at him, giving him a small nod. Harry realized that with the Dreamer power he instinctively raised to capture Carrow, nothing – not even whatever stunning magic he could fire off could penetrate the hold he had on the woman. He took a deep breath and slowly let the cloth-like droplets of his powers fall through his mental fingers.

Carrow dropped to the ground, gave one great gasp-

James' wand movement was so fast and silent that Harry barely noticed it until Carrow's gasp turned into her grasping at her throat, blood pouring like a waterfall in between her fingers before she collapsed to the ground. Her gasp rattled into deathly silence mere seconds later.

Harry lowered his arm, staring at the woman who now was dead, head lolling to the side, her throat sliced open by James' spell. He recognized the spell, _Sectumsempra_ , and could not help but shudder at the destructive quality of it. When he first learned it and hit Malfoy with it back in his Sixth Year, he realized that Malfoy was very lucky to have survived such a dark curse. He glanced at James, wondering if his father felt any remorse to have killed someone like that. But he could not see any hints of it and though Harry wanted to protest, he did not – this world was different, he reminded himself.

“No time to deal with Carrow's body, Godric, get to the middle of the car,” James' tone was all business as he promptly fired another silent spell at Carrow's body and the body immediately disintegrated. All that remained of Alecto Carrow in this world was a pile of grey-looking dust that reminded Harry of soot. “Merlin, you too. Ron, Hermione, if you are willing, we think there may be an attack by the Black Queen today aboard this train. Station yourselves near Lady Selwyn who is in the brake van.”

“I want to help,” Ginny spoke up, her voice simple and to the point.

“Miss Weasley, you are a student-”

“I want to help,” she stated again, her eyes flashing with anger.

“She can come with me,” Harry did not know what compelled him to invite Ginny along, considering he was a little disturbed by her story and felt sympathetic towards her, but at the same time, he supposed that if he did not bring Ginny along, she would probably get into more trouble if left alone.

He met James look and nodded once and his father seemed satisfied as he gestured for the two of them to go before he did. They followed Ron and Harry could see that his best friend was shedding whatever disguise he used to get aboard the train. Harry did too, leaving the glamour that made him Merlin over him – it was probably a moot point now, and perhaps better in the sense that if the students saw them, they would be more alert, more inclined to keep their wands at the ready.

“Thank you-”

“Ginny, you're going to stay behind us,” Harry made sure that the young woman heard his displeasure loud and clear, “you're a student-”

“I am over age and can cast spells-”

“Ginny, listen to Merlin, all right? We don't want you-”

Harry could see Ginny almost to the point of stomping off and quickly spoke up. “Fine, but it has to be defensive spells only, okay? We tell you to run, you will run, all right? We tell you to protect students, you will do that, no questions asked.”

“But-”

“Gin,” he stopped and turned around, making her nearly run into him. Her eyes widened and she made a small noise of surprise at his sudden action. “Our priority is the students, not revenge, not killing.” This close to Ginny, the initial flintiness he saw was gone, replaced by a surprised look as her eyes dart back and forth, away from him to the side and back. Her cheeks were a little flushed and for a moment Harry thought it was because of what she had seen, but then saw the small hitch of her chest at the same time her eyes darted away from him and back.

He would have thought it odd for Ginny to act in such a way until he recognized and realized that _this_ world's Ginny was acting in the same exact way his world's Ginny had acted back when they first met. This world's Ginny had a crush on him – or rather, on Merlin. Harry would have laughed at the absurdity if not for the seriousness of the situation. He really could not deal with a precocious crush on him at the moment, even if it was from Ginny's counterpart. The fact that she had just mere minutes ago, talking about her own torture by Alecto Carrow's hand and even killing Carrow made him wonder about her mental state.

 _Use it to your advantage_ , Merlin murmured quietly, equally bemused at the fact that Ginny had a crush on him. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Do you understand?” he asked kindly.

“I-I do,” she stared at his hand before back up at him and nodded.

“Good,” he smiled at her before turning back around, ignoring the look Ron was giving him which was somewhere between a glare and a puzzled look. It seemed Ron also picked up the fact that his sister in this world had a crush on him.

They reached the food car without any issue and Harry directed Ginny behind the cooking area, hoping that it would be the safest spot. He moved to one of the windows and peered out, just as the train gave a sudden lurch. Harry heard his father fight back half of a curse as he entered the food car, Hermione as Rowena following behind him. He pointed at Ron before pointing to the door that led to the next car and Ron nodded, moving to position, looking through the window, trying to see if there was an attack coming towards them.

The train lurched again, but as Harry tried to grab one of the dining islands to steady himself, he suddenly found himself flying through the air. He landed painfully on his side-”

“Merlin!”

Harry looked up and immediately waved his wand, “ _Protego!_ ” The shield expanded in time to prevent various pots, pans, knives, and all sorts of items that fell from the kitchen cabinets to hit him. They bounced off and settled around him. It took him a moment to realize what was the ceiling of the train was now the ground and that they had been flipped over.

“ _Reducto!_ ” Hermione blasted the windows outward and Harry moved his wand to shield himself from the falling bits and pieces of glass.

He crawled forward and pulled himself out of the train, rolling as his instincts screamed to avoid the spell that blasted the dirt where his head used to be. He threw up another shield, the spell thrown at him rebounding with a thonk before he fired back another one without thinking. Screams filled the air and Harry caught a brief glimpse of what had happened.

The Hogwarts Express was all twisted metal of cars off its tracks and lying on sides or flipped over. He could not see Ginny nor anyone else that was in the car with him. What he did see were students were crying out everywhere and bodies were strewn across the grassy plain. In the distance, Harry could see the bridge. Jets of color were flying around and across the bridge, indicating that the advance party of the Prewett twins, Sirius, and Marion were under attack from a separate force. He coughed, the coal-produced smoke of the Hogwarts Express along with the dust and dirt thrown into the air by the force of the cars going off the rail making it hard to breathe.

Harry saw a Death Eater approach and pointed his wand, firing a spell, but it bounced off of a shield. He dove to the side to avoid a curse thrown at him and instinctively drew on the Dreamer powers that he had, but it slipped through his fingers and he could only feebly push the Death Eater back a few feet, but it was enough as a curse, aimed at someone, else took the Death Eater out with a shriek. He tried to look around for his friends, even his father, but spells were flying all over the place and he couldn't see much in the dust and debris that were kicked up.

That was when he felt it; the sudden chill that felt so familiar, yet so alien. He could see the wave of frost cascading down from the hills, the nearby forests turning blue in a flash freeze. It was as if all of the happiness inside of him despaired.

“DEMENTORS!” James shouted somewhere on Harry's left. There was flash of red light followed by another scream. James' call was echoed by several others. Harry thought he heard Godric and Selwyn, but he did not hear Hermione's Rowena-voice anywhere. Harry could not risk a glance back to see where Hermione was, even though he was sure she blasted the side of the car open for them to escape. There was no sign of this world's Ginny anywhere and he hoped she had not been pinned or seriously injured when the car went tumbling off the tracks.

He focused back on the incoming Dementors, their tattered formless bodies, gliding along the grass, freezing everything in place.

“Merlin!” Godric's voice rang out and Harry turned to see Ron burst out of a patch of fog. “Rowena- She's- She's not moving, it's like she's frozen-”

Harry did not need anymore prompting as he followed Ron back into the fog. He emerged back to where the overturned car was to find Hermione exactly as Ron had said – seemingly frozen in place as she was half-crawling out of the overturned car. “Ron,” he hissed at his friend, ducking a little as a spell flew overhead. He pointed his wand into the fog, but nothing appeared. The cold, clammy feeling was still there. “Was she petrified?” he asked.

“I tried _Finite Incantatem_ , but nothing happened!” Ron looked frightened, “she's alive, but that's about it!”

Harry did not know what to do as he could feel the coldness descend. He turned, shaking his head as he started to hear the phantom screams of his mother dying, the screams of his friends- He desperately reached out for the Dreamer power, trying to wrap the liquid like power around him, but it all slipped through his fingers-

“ _...Harry...Harry...you're the strongest of us-”_

It almost sounded like Hermione's whisper, but when he cast a desperate look at her, she was still seemingly frozen in her half-crawl. He held his wand with both of his hands as the fog parted now, the Dementors flying towards them, ready to feast on them-

Harry summoned his happiest memory, “ _Expecto Patronum!_ ”

The tip of his wand gave a little sputter and died.

“ _...Harry...Harry...you're the strongest of us-”_

“Expecto Patronum!” he shouted again, but nothing happened.

The cold was making him shiver now, and he could see his breath mist in front of him. He could hear the shrieks of his mother now, “ _Not Harry, not Harry...please, not Harry!_ ”

“Expecto-”

_He could see her now, how she stood in front of his crib, begging as Voldemort advanced into the room. James' body was lying on the ground, just outside, halfway down the stairs. His eyes were open and unseeing, dead from the Killing Curse. She wanted to cry, James couldn't be dead, he just couldn't-_

Wait, it did not happen like that. He distinctively remembered James – his father – his eyes were closed, unconscious from the blow dealt to him, suppressing his Dreamer-

_What Dreamer? There were...there were no Dreamers-_

_She spread her arms wide, hoping, praying something would happen, tried to summon her courage, summon her faith in the others-_

_At the sight of him, she dropped her son into the crib behind her and threw her arms wide, as if this would help, as if shielding him from sight she hoped to be chosen instead..._

“ _Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!”_

“ _Stand aside, you silly girl...stand aside, now.”_

“ _Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead-”_

“ _This is my last warning-”_

“ _Not Harry! Please..have mercy...have mercy...Not Harry! Not Harry! Please – I'll do anything-”_

“ _Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!”_

_He watched (or was it she watched) helplessly as he forced her away from the crib-_

Wait...it did not happen like this...

_He decided that it was more prudent to finish her off-_

SHE LIVED!

_He would finish them all and the green light flashed around the room. She dropped like her husband-_

My Mum and Dad are alive!

_The child had not cried all this time: He could stand, clutching the bars of his crib, and he looked up into the intruder's face with a kind of bright interest, perhaps thinking that it was his father who hid beneath the cloak-_

She did not die! She could not have died, he raged-

 _She was knocked to the ground, and he pointed his wand at her. A red light burst from the end of his wand, hitting her square in the chest, stupifying her into unconsciousness like James-_ Dad!- _and he advance upon the crib_ now.

“EXPECTO PATRONUM! _”_

The _boy...the boy looked on with mild interest, but his eyes started to water when he noticed his mother lying on the ground, dark red hair pooling around her. She was not moving, she was not going to pop up any moment laughing-_

_He pointed the wand very carefully into the boy's face: He wanted to see it happen, the destruction of this one, inexplicable danger. The child began to cry: It had seen that he was not James. He did not like it crying, he had never been able to stomach the small ones whining in the orphanage-_

“ _Avada Kedavra!”_

He choked, seized, choked again, and suddenly blinked as he found himself spluttering up at bright lights, concerned voices, a lot of voices surrounding him that the cacophony of noise- so loud!

_Too loud!_

_Make it stop!_

Harry shot up from the bed with a shout and a start. He was in the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts, lying on one of the beds with blankets covering him. He was drenched in sweat, the blankets and sheets damp. It was eerily like when he had awakened after the ambush at Godric's Hollow and he craned his neck to see Hermione staring at him, her expression one of sorrow.

“The battle...” he started and she nodded.

“It's been hours, since the battle...Harry,” she murmured.

“T-The others?!” Harry looked around wildly, before he winced and jammed a hand to his head. His head hurt so badly and the skin around his scar felt raw though the scar itself did not prickle in familiar pain.

“Safe,” Hermione replied, “Harry...you...you were having a fit, seizure, something that we couldn't wake you from, no matter what. It looked like the entropic cascade failure that Neville went through, but there weren't multiple faces or distorted images around you. Dumbledore was even here, trying to bring you back, but nothing could wake you. I...I managed to well...delve isn't quite the right word-”

“Hermione...” Harry said in a tired voice as he looked at his friend through his hands. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again.

“It's like dowsing, but going into your mind so to speak. It was...it was the only way to break the connection, temporarily, I think...between you and...uh...you and the, uh...B-Black Queen.”

“...What?” the pounding in his head was rhythmic, almost following his heartbeat and he winced again before Hermione reached over and handed him a glass and what looked like two small pills- paracetmol.

“Madam Pompfrey didn't want you taking any potions since your throat looked horribly raw according to her. She did allow you to take Muggle medication to help with your headache and any pains you may be feeling,” Hermione explained and Harry took the pills, swallowing them with a quick gulp of water.

He nearly gagged at the harshness of the water that went to the back of his throat. It hurt, even though when he spoke, it did not. He wondered what happened. Medication taken, he breathed out quietly, closing his eyes in an attempt to find some relief from the headache. The medication was taking too long in his opinion, but in a matter of minutes, the pain started to recede and he looked at Hermione. “What happened? I remember...Dementors- Ron said you were frozen-”

“I...” Hermione closed her mouth for a second before grimacing as she picked at the fabric of her robes. He realized they were still dirty and streaked with dirt, glass, blood, all sorts of things. “I...Awakened, Harry...as the Dreamer of Wisdom. It's how I was able to delve into your mind and break the connection. Dementors...” She gave a small almost hysterical bitter laugh. “That was the creature that awakens Wisdom apparently...you would think Courage would do better.”

“But...that doesn't explain-”

“Ron said that you looked like you were having a fit after you tried to summon your Patronus. He reckons you were hearing some awful things, and so he tried to shield you from the Dementors. James found us, produced his Patronus and we were able to take shelter. Somehow, I woke up, I guess, is the best word for it, was able to see through the fog and disappate it by accentuating your father's Patronus to make it a more powerful spell.”

“You influenced his feelings?”

“No, no, nothing like what Courage does, at least I think that's what Courage does according to what I read- Anyways,” she took a deep breath and screwed up her face in concentration as she tried to explain what happened. “Anyways, I was able to amplify, yes, amplify I think is the best word for it, for now, the spell. I was able to see the make-up, if you will of James' Patronus spell and magnify the power and output...err, it's so hard to describe it-”

“Hermione-”

“Oh,” she threw her hands up in the air, “I was able to make James' spell more powerful than it already was and the Dementors were pushed back. At the same time, I was able to somehow see through the fog they had and managed to project that somehow onto the others. They were able to take down several of the Death Eaters before the rest Apparated away.”

“But...”

“We saw something really odd, Harry. The Black Queen, I'm pretty sure it was the Black Queen, was also having a fit, similar to you, and Bellatrix Lestrange was in front of him, shielding him from us, using whatever power the Dreamer of Lust has to ward us away. We couldn't touch either one of them, until she Apparated away with him. Then...” she looked at him, “it was like your seizures stopped. I...I think it was the distance that might have to do with it, but Harry- Oh Harry, you weren't moving-”

She shook her head as she stopped. “You...you have to apply Occulmency, Harry-”

“ _I know!_ ” he shouted at her, suddenly feeling a surge of anger and annoyance for her to bring it up again when he clearly knew. His head pounded again. “I know,” he said shortly and saw her expression crumple a little at the fact that he shouted at her. “Hermione, I know...”

“I...I think because the two of you were in close proximity and maybe because of the Dementors, you saw your worst thing which affected him or maybe vice versa...” She trailed off as she looked at him, her eyes sad, almost pitying.

“I'll see, Snape, all right?” he pleaded with her and she nodded. “I'll see Snape...”

“...Okay...” she whispered before taking a deep breath. “You should know that there were a few students who died, Harry...and several others were injured-”

“Where are they?” He gestured towards the empty Hospital Wing.

“Madam Pompfrey set them up in the Great Hall since Dumbledore ordered her to have you only in here-”

“Wait, what?” Harry was appalled. There were perfectly good beds here and Dumbledore had ordered the Healer to set up in the Great Hall because of him?! “But that's-”

“I know...” Hermione whispered. “I know...and...and Harry...I think I know why you didn't want to tell him anything...I...I think I see after I've awakened...”

“...What, what do you see?”

“I...” she hesitated, “I don't want to say until we're back in the Room...but Harry.” She took another deep breath, “There's something you should know. The Minister, Dumbledore, he was livid when he found out and I think he's blaming James for this-”

Harry threw back the covers, mildly surprised to see that he was still in his robes when he expected to be in medical ones, and they were still relatively dirty from the battle. He swung out of his bed and stood, up swaying once at the sudden dizziness that assaulted him along with the throbbing pain of his head before he managed to find his equilbrium.

“Harry! Harry wait!” Hermione grasped at his arm and he shook her off.

“Where are they?!” he snarled, anger filling him. He would not allow his father to take the blame for something he suggested. He would explain to Dumbledore what happened, why he kept his visions from him. There was no way James would take the blame. He was angry that his father could come up with such a suggestion, but angrier at the implication that Dumbledore would blame James.

“T-The teacher's, staff room, I think, Dumbledore immediately called for a meeting after you seemed stabilized. I think that was about an hour ago- Harry- Harry wait!”

But Harry was done listening. He marched towards the staff room, ignoring the whispers and looks of the others as he passed by them. His father was not to blame for this. He was to blame.

He alone.


	25. The Second Phase

Even though Harry was angry, he managed to not fling the door open to the staff room and instead, stepped through rather calmly, Hermione hurrying in after him. The glamour that cloaked him as Merlin was already doing its work and he could feel the Dreamer in him trying to soothe his anger. He could not let his father take the blame for what happened on the Hogwarts Express.

His entry was noticed as silence descended upon the three people in the room and two heads turned towards him and Hermione.

“Ah, Merlin.”

Harry ignored Dumbledore's greeting as he took in what was before him. His lips thinned as he saw his father sitting in a chair across from Dumbledore, the same worn, exhausted expression on his face. James' hands gripped the sides of the chairs, white-knuckled and the barest hint of perspiration beaded his forehead. Just what was Dumbledore doing before he interrupted, Harry wondered. And where were the others? The third person in the room was Mad-Eye Moody, but he stood perpendicular from the two, arms crossed across his chest, an unreadable expression across his craggy features. His magical eye was focused on Harry though, but Harry could not tell what the head Auror was thinking.

Harry studied his father again – James the only one to have refused to even look at him when he entered. He thought the worn, exhausted expression was gone from his father; having seen him with a vitality that gave him hope just mere hours ago. There was a confidence, a sureness in James that belied the defeated expression he saw now. James' spindly hands did not ease in their grip of the sides of the chair, and Harry thought he saw the barest tremor of nerves twitch through his father. He recognized the type of tremor – pain.

Harry finally looked back at the Headmaster, the anger that was already in him, slowly building to a boil. His father was in pain; whether it was from injuries sustained or- Harry did not even want to consider the alternate possibility of the man he once called Headmaster, that stood before him. He could _not_ consider that possibility.

“Minister,” Merlin's inflection over his own voice could barely contain his anger and it was noticed by Moody as the head Auror raised an eyebrow. Harry could not tell whether it was in surprise or not. “I was told there was a meeting?” Those were certainly not the words he wanted to say, but the Dreamer chided him and he reluctantly said the words. His reluctance had an unusual effect as it made him sound even more angry and Moody's second eyebrow rose up to disappear into his wild hairline.

“Ah, yes,” Dumbledore gestured with one hand towards the doors that he and Hermione came through, “I dismissed the others to tend to their injuries. It was just a confirmation of events that led to this unfortunate situation.”

“And Auror Potter?” Harry asked.

“He has assumed full responsibility of the actions that occurred today at the Hogwarts Express-”

“Those actions were the result of my vision, Headmaster,” Harry interrupted, taking a step forward. Inwardly, he marveled at how calm Merlin managed to make him sound, even with his growing anger. His anger was directed mostly towards Dumbledore as he still couldn't tell what happened, but he did not like the implication of what had happened. But a very small part of him was also angry that his father was taking full responsibility of what happened. That blame fell solely on Harry – he was the one with the vision, the one who asked his father and even told him of the vision. He had as much responsibility of the disaster on the Express as his father.

“Vision?!”

“Auror Potter was acting as a result of the knowledge I parted with him,” Harry ignored Dumbledore's exclamation and the not-so-twinkle in his eyes at his statement. “He does not bear full responsibility of what has happened. If there is a person to blame, then it is myself. I requested that this knowledge not extend to you, Minister, as we did not know who has infiltrated the Ministry and was sent to spy on you.”

Something warred in Dumbledore's expression for a moment before he seemingly relaxed and the familiar twinkle that Harry long recognized returned to the man's eyes. Harry let go a breath he did not realize he had been holding – the sense of danger, of tension draining out of him. The Headmaster believed him. At the same time, James swayed a little in the chair he was sitting him, though his hands still gripped the sides.

“With all of the excitement today, perhaps things got a little more heated than usual. Please forgive my mistake, Merlin. I would also like to extend an invitation to you to visit me tomorrow – whenever is convenient for you. I am rather curious about this vision you speak of and perhaps I could provide some insight as to the spies that you may have heard or misheard about,” Dumbledore said, his voice congenial and welcoming.

Harry was reminded for a moment of his world's Dumbledore – who realized the error of his ways and started to prepare and explain to him everything after the disaster at the Department of Mysteries. He nodded, accepting the invitation. He hoped that he would be able to emphasize the danger of having Crouch Jr. - even if he was Imperiused by Marion. Maybe he could ask Dumbledore about this world's Snape – clearly a spy – but at the same time a mystery before he underwent Occulmency lessons with the man. And also find out who the Potters' secret-keeper was because they were clearly betrayed on Halloween night of 1981. Perhaps he could also get some answers about why Dumbledore lied about this world's Harry Potter being dead. He did not have a chance to talk to Dumbledore since the Founders' Ball and he knew he had to take this opportunity with the carte blanche invitation he received.

“Alastor, if you could help Auror Potter here-”

“Minister, we do not mind escorting Auror Potter to a bed to rest,” Hermione suddenly step forward, “I am sure you and Head Auror Moody here have a lot to discuss, especially with today's attacks and perhaps a revisit of the security measures for the students here. The fact that the Black Queen made use of Dementors and two other full-fledged Dreamers troubles me that Grindelwald may be pressing for a more aggressive tactic in the coming months. We must see to the security of this school and its inhabitants.”

“Of course, Rowena. And may I express my happiness and joy at your Awakening. It has been too long since we have Wisdom among our group. Our last Dreamer was Professor McGonagall, our Transfiguration teacher. It is good to have such decisiveness and power to help the cause,” Dumbledore folded his long fingers together and bowed his head.

Harry looked back to see Hermione in the guise of Rowena give him a thin smile. Something happened between Hermione and Dumbledore and he wondered if it was an allusion to what his friend wanted to discuss in private at a later date. He felt confused, but did not voice it as both Dumbledore and Moody left the room, heading back to the Great Hall.

“Oh Minister,” Hermione suddenly called out before the door closed, “since Merlin is awake now, I would think it be prudent to move the injured to the Hospital Wing now. The students would be able to enjoy their morning breakfast tomorrow.”

“Yes, yes, that is a sound idea. Merlin, I am glad you have recovered sufficiently. You had us worried there,” Dumbledore replied before the door closed behind him.

Harry turned back and walked towards his father who was still gripping the arms of the chair like his life depended on it. James' eyes were closed, and Harry could see his father breathing out deep, noisy breaths through both his nose and mouth. “Are...” Harry hesitated as he knelt down to eye level in front of his father. He reached out a tentative hand and placed it on James' own white-knuckled grip. “A-Are you all right?” he asked.

His father's head bobbled once, firm, before he opened his eyes and stared at him. “You shouldn't have done that...Harry,” James' voice was just above a whisper, but Harry was appalled at the amount of pain and tightness in them.

He opened his mouth to protest, but before he could say anything, his father released the grip he had on the arm of the chair and grasped his hand tightly, so tightly that it almost hurt Harry. He winced, but James seemed oblivious to it and made a motion that indicated he wanted to get up from the chair. Harry obliged him and gingerly swung his father to his feet. He immediately slung James' arm around his own while Hermione suddenly appeared on his other side and supported him.

“Where-”

“The dungeons...need to see...S-Severus...” James murmured before falling silent.

“Harry, hang on,” Hermione suddenly shuffled a bit before she drew out her wand and tapped the point on his and James' their heads.

Harry felt the distinct sensation of having eggs cracking over his head before the Disillusionment spell spread all the way down his toes. He saw Hermione do the same to herself before she pocked her wand and together they slowly left the staff room and headed towards the dungeons. Harry understood why Hermione wanted no one to see them like this, as fellow Aurors, even those who were part of Moody's Aurors milled about, looking both concerned and shell-shocked. The students and adults injured in the attack were being transferred to the Hospital Wing now; and Harry supposed that if they saw James in such as state, perhaps rumors or worse may start up – giving Crouch's Aurors a chance to potentially challenge Moody's Aurors.

They eventually arrived at the dungeons and with no one around, Harry reached into his robes and drew out his own wand and removed the spell as Hermione knocked on the door. It was promptly opened by the last person Harry expected, Lily.

“Uh...” was the only word Harry could get out before Lily's expectant smile turned into a very sour-looking frown.

“Oh, you,” she arched an eyebrow at James.

“Severus here?” James sounded tired, worn, his voice breathy with pain.

“No, summoned by You-Know-Who, twenty minutes ago,” Lily looked eerily like Aunt Petunia with her put-out expression and thin waspish lips. Harry was a little more than disturbed by the familial resemblance even though he knew that the two were related. Holding up James' other arm, Hermione looked distinctly uncomfortable.

“...Okay...” James shifted and Harry realized his father was about to leave-

“Wait-uh-”

Harry's outburst seemed to have sparked something in Lily before she rolled her emerald green eyes and crossed her arms across her chest. “Fine, bring him in, Mer-err, Harry...Hermione?”

“Yes, ma'am,” Hermione replied meekly.

Lily nodded once, decisive, before holding the door open for them. “Bring him in,” she commanded in a firm tone and they did. She closed the door behind them, latching it shut before gesturing with a wand to two desks that instantly transformed into a not-so-comfortable looking couch.

Harry understood that they were to put James on the couch. He gingerly deposited his father, his father's hazel eyes still crinkled with pain, but he seemed to breath a deep sigh of relief as he laid down, the small flat-looking pillow apparently comfortable even though Harry had a distinct feeling that it was not that comfortable.

“Uh-”

“I know what he needs, that git,” Lily rolled her eyes and stomped back into the inner rooms of the potions classroom. Harry could smell something herbal and minty wafting through the room. He realized that his mother and probably Snape had been brewing healing potions for those injured before Snape was called away by Voldemort.

“Harry...um...”

Harry tore his eyes from where Lily had disappeared to, a few sounds of glasses knocking together indicating that she was finding whatever James needed, to Hermione who still had a very distinct and uncomfortable look. It took him a moment to realize that Hermione never witnessed two people, parents even, fighting or speaking to each other in such a harsh manner. Harry would have thought the same except the mannerisms displayed reminded him greatly of how his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon treated him. “Ginny and Ron?” he asked, and she brightened, nodding.

“I think they're probably either in the Great Hall or maybe trying to find you-oh!”

“Yeah, uh, probably should go find them and tell them I'm all right-” Harry realized with some trepidation that his friends would probably panic if they did not see him in the Hospital Wing, especially with the injured all being moved back in there.

“Okay, I'll go, Harry, you stay here.” Hermione was quick on her feet and left before he could even voice his protest.

He watched her leave before the distinct tapping of footsteps on the stone ground of the dungeons made him turn back to see Lily approaching with two potions in her hands. One was a blood red color, the other distinctly sludge-green. She seemed to not take note of Hermione's absence and pulled up a stool and sat down on it. She uncorked the blood-red one without a single word before roughly gesturing for Harry to help James up to drink.

Harry was disturbed by the cold, clinical way Lily was treating the whole thing, but did as she asked as he gingerly lifted his father's shoulders up, James blinking awake from whatever light sleep he had fallen into in the interim before a grimace worked its way up his lips. James closed his eyes and nodded as he used his hands to help himself sit up before Lily shoved the potion into James' spindly fingers. His father shakily held it up and Harry wanted to help steady the potion, but stopped at the quick glare from his mother.

He blinked, struck at the knowledge that his _mother_ could produce such a look. A part of him rebelled at what was happening, but another part of him quailed at the animosity that was evident between his silent parents. Beneath his hands, he could feel James' shoulders shaking and he swallowed heavily, feeling a lump of pain, hurt, and anguish rising in him. He did not _want_ to be privy to something like this and wondered if it had been better for him to leave with Hermione. But he was stuck now.

It felt like long agonizing minutes until James finished the whole bottle and handed it shakily back to Lily who took it and set it to the side without another word. She replaced the empty bottle with the sludge-green one and Harry wrinkled his nose at the smell and color of it. He wanted to gag. It smelled like Dudley's particularly rancid socks and he had a feeling it probably tasted like it, if not worse. However, he watched, morbidly fascinated at his father's apparent courage at drinking the thing without a word of complaint. Granted, James did grimace as the potion went down his throat, but once he was finished, he handed the bottle back to Lily, an involuntary shudder twitching through him before he closed his eyes and sighed.

“You can help him lie back down and rest, Harry,” the malice in Lily's voice dimmed and Harry saw her sigh, shake her head and stand up, the two empty potion bottles in her hand clinking together as she went back to the store room.

He was surprised by the sudden change in attitude before he gently lowered his father back down onto the wooden couch with minimal plush comforts. James immediately turned to his side, curling a little in on himself and making his glasses push up against his forehead askew. Harry looked around for something he could transfigure into a blanket before Lily's footsteps came out again and he saw her holding a rather plush-looking one.

He took it from her hands, noting that instead of the waspish anger and annoyance on her face, she looked more resigned and tired than anything else. Harry reached over and gently draped it across his father's form, James mumbling something unintelligent, but Harry supposed it was his thanks. He absently nodded, even though he knew his father could not see it with his eyes closed.

“Harry,” his mother suddenly spoke up and she gestured deeper into the classroom, “come help me finish this batch of healing potions.”

“Uh...okay,” Harry sent a sidelong look at his father.

“He'll be fine. He took the needed potions and he's just sleeping it off,” Lily replied before walking away. Harry reluctantly followed and came upon two large cauldrons that were boiling away. It was clear that both Snape and Lily were making potions, ingredients not mixed in still on the side while both burbled happily over large fire pits.

“You can finish the one Sev's been working on before he was called away. He's got the list and directions to the side of his cutting board and if you're not sure, just ask me. This is batch number three for us and I know the steps by heart,” Lily pointed to the cauldron and Harry stepped up to it.

He quickly read the directions and picked up where Snape left off before he continued by adding a sprinkle of the toadstool that was apparently lined up on the cutting board, ready to be put in. Harry could not help but note the methodical way that Snape kept his side of the ingredients and potions in such a meticulous order. The directions were also filled with side notes like the Half-Blood Prince's copy of _Advance Potion Making_. For such messy margins, the man's potion station was impeccable.

“Mu-er...Lil---errr...Professor,” Harry stumbled on what to call Lily as he stirred. The potion was a rich green color, exactly as the notes stated. He breathed a quick sigh of relief that Snape's notes were still as accurate as his miracle Sixth Year. It would not do him any favors that his attempt to finish Snape's potion resulted in a gigantic cauldron exploding or dissolving everything in sight.

“Lily is fine, Harry, or Professor,” his mother replied, hard at work at her potion. She was apparently quicker, her potion turning from rich green to a lighter calmer green.

“Um...” Harry fell silent as he realized he didn't know what to say to her. He wanted to ask her about her attitude towards James, about what happened on Halloween 1981 to change from her and James surviving instead of being dead, to being a Dreamer, to why she lost Faith, to all sorts of things, but all of the questions he wanted to ask were highly impertinent, especially since she had all but embraced him just that one time after he revealed that he was her son's alternate world counterpart.

“I...” he trailed off. Harry added another handful of ingredients and read the directions, giving his cauldron two spins before the potion turned a light green, the same one as Lily's. He added some more and stirred it several times again, the smell minty and herbal. It soothed him, breathing in the fragrance, calming and foritfying him. He felt brave enough to finally speak.

“I'm sorry that didn't tell you earlier,” he babbled, “about the Black Queen, about myself-err, Harry- Are you okay with knowing that I'm Harry and not, you know, Merlin-”

He stopped as Lily held up a hand, resting her ladle to the side before she looked at him, her emerald green eyes soft and kind. It was certainly a far cry from how she greeted James earlier. “I suspected something was off about you and your friends, especially after the Minister announced all of you as Merlin and his Knights. They existed, that much was certain, but it was your mannerisms, no matter how much Merlin, or rather the Dreamer glamour cast about you tried to protect you. You forget, I was a Dreamer myself-”

“Faith, yeah-”

“Yes, Faith,” Lily looked to the side for a moment before staring back at him, “and we are well-versed in many tricks that the Dreamers and their powers provide for us. We are the guardians of such power and we hold those in confidence and respect. So yes, I suspected, but I hesitated to voice my suspicions to you, only to Sev, because I love him too much to keep secrets from him.”

Harry tried valiantly to suppress the grimace of hurt from flitting across his expression, but he supposed he failed as Lily tilted her head to the side, looking for a moment like Ginny when she sensed something was amiss.

“It bothers you, that I am legally married to James and having an affair with Severus.” It was not voiced as a question, but Harry nodded in response. He remembered his lack of tact when he first voiced it during their initial introduction to the students and staff of Hogwarts. “I remember you saying that you lost your parents and you also lost someone you considered a parent,” Lily's eyes betrayed no hint of her sympathies or of her emotion, but Harry could almost see her putting together the puzzle pieces in an eerie similar fashion like himself. He silently marveled at the reality that what everyone had been telling him time and time again – that he resembled his mother a lot. “I take it we died in your world, maybe during the war?”

Harry nodded, unable to speak past the lump in his throat. He swallowed, grimacing as he glanced quickly at the directions before looking at the color in his cauldron. It was a safe spot for him to stop stirring. He set aside his ladle and turned to give Lily his full attention. “You...and Dad...I...” Harry's voice cracked before he cleared his throat lightly. It was harder to admit to his mother than it had been with his father. Then again, Sirius and Remus had been there so they also heard the stories and it felt easier to talk with them around because he felt that they would understand. With his father, he had gotten a good sense of who he was courtesy of Snape's prejudices, Sirius' wistfulness, along with Remus' memories. With his mother, he only had parts of Snape's memories from the pensieve, but he really did not know her.

“Both of you died,” he resisted a shudder as the memory of being in Voldemort's head, living through the memory of his parents' death through the evil wizard's own perspective and thoughts-

“Both of you died when I was one.” Harry had the sudden urge to play with a snitch, to fidget, to do something to keep his hands occupied. He instead, pushed his glasses up his nose as they slid down while he was working on the potion. The motion did not go unnoticed as he saw Lily frown a little. He realized it was the same motion James made, which probably reminded Lily of her estranged husband. “Sorry...” he mumbled.

Lily's frown became more pronounced before she reached out and clasped his fingers, squeezing them. “Harry, don't...don't think that you have to apologize to me. I...I can see that you're somehow hesitant to tell me this, but-”

“I know, I know,” Harry pressed his lips together as she released his fingers, “I just...in my world, everyone says I look like Dad, but I have your eyes. I've been told by others, a lot of people, that I resemble James, act like him, are impulsive, foolhardy, prone to not trusting adults, doing my own thing, hell, getting into loads of trouble when I could have easily went to an adult- But the problem was that I didn't know _who_ to trust. I couldn't trust anyone except myself, Ron, Hermione, even then, I didn't want them hurt so I tried to go it alone, tried to keep them away, but-”

He sighed and looked away, “You and Dad, both of you died on October 31st, 1981. Dad died first, he was wandless when Voldemort broke into our house at Godric's Hollow. Pe-The Fidelius Charm was broken by your Secret Keeper and Voldemort knew where you were. He went after the three of us. There was no time, it was so quick; Dad told you to take me and run, he'll find a way to stop Voldemort. He...” Harry bit his lip, “He was wandless, he didn't stand a chance, but he sacrificed himself for that split second so you could try something to get away.”

The tears came to the corner of his eyes as he could feel the tide of pain rising in him. It hurt to tell them this, but it was like a dam that broke and the flood of agony was rushing through him; it felt oppressive, heavy.

“You barricaded the door,” Harry hiccuped, wiping away the tears with his sleeve, but they still came, “you barricaded it with furniture, anything, and when Voldemort broke through, you dropped me in the crib and shielded me from his vision, as if it could do something to stop him. He asked you to step out of the way, his promise to Snape to spare your life, but you didn't and he decided he would kill you, Snape's promise nothing more than something he could soothe over. He killed you, then tried to kill me. The Killing Curse rebounded and he became a shell of whom he was...” He looked at her, the pain of what happened, the tears falling down his face at a rapid pace now. It hurt so much- Why did it hurt so much this time, this oppressive feeling he had-

“You...survived the Killing Curse,” Lily held her fingers up to her mouth, shock spread across her features. “But...how-”

“Your love, your love for me, for Dad, it helped me survive...” It tore at him and he looked at his mother with plaintive eyes. “Can't you understand, can't you see, that's why-” He took a deep shuddering breath, wincing, “I can't, I don't understand why you're with Snape, why- I know he loved you, I know he is a s-”

“Oh my poor boy, my poor boy,” Lily suddenly engulfed him in a bone-crushing embrace, and Harry felt his glasses dig into his nose, jarring the dull roaring pain that he was feeling- He shuddered again, hiccuping- It felt wrong-

“Why are you trembling so badly, Harry? My poor, poor boy,” Lily pulled him out of the embrace and stared at him, clutching his shoulders. “Why-”

“I...” Harry was beginning to realize something was terribly wrong, “I don't...k-know-”

The doors to the Potions classroom opened and both he and Lily turned to look at the entrance; James had awakened at the entry and was gingerly pulling himself up, still clearly in pain- Hermione, Ron, and Ginny burst through, Hermione's hand was outstretched, wandless-

“Harry! You have to Occlude! Close your eyes! He's in s _eeing_ -”

Alarm shot through Harry as he saw his friends advancing towards him, Hermione's arm still outstretched. He felt was a burst of _fear_ mingled with pain- Harry instantly understood the pain, the oppression he was feeling even though he barely suffered any injuries – it was because the Black Queen was doing what he did three time already. The Black Queen-

The last thing Harry saw was Hermione's mouth moving, oh so slowly, then everything became white.

“ _Hello Harry Potter, we need to talk_ ,” a voice spoke up.

And it sounded exactly like his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an FYI, this is not a Dumbledore-bashing fic. I know it smells like that with a few things going on, but based on this twisted world, some information cannot be trusted even when spoken by characters who just ooze trustworthiness.


	26. Mindscape

The world was stark white, but as Harry laid on the ground before him, he was convinced that he had died again and the whiteness of the world – whatever world it was – resolved itself into an eerie looking field with perhaps two stones, rocks, to sit on. The next thing Harry was distinctly aware of was the tickle of grass that nudged at his skin and senses, tuning them to a razor sharp point that he forced his eyes open-

His own face was reflected back at him and Harry started, promptly knocking heads with the face who shouted 'ow!' and moved away.

Harry immediately sat up, rubbing his own forehead as he stared at what was clearly his counterpart of this twisted dreamscape he fell into, Harry James Potter the Black Queen. The Black Queen was sitting on the ground, rubbing his own forehead, a wince of pain on his face that made him look so much more youthful, the haughtiness of his bearing and posture reduced for a moment, to that of a mere eighteen-year-old. Harry could not help but stare just as he had during the Founders' Ball. Even in whatever dreamscape, mindscape, this stark white world with white-shadowed grass and white-shadowed everything for that matter, the Black Queen looked impeccable. They were completely identical right down to the lightning bolt-shaped scar on their foreheads and the round glasses perched on their noses.

“Ow, that effing hurt,” his counterpart rubbed his head once more before giving him an arched look that would have been more at home on Malfoy's face. “Took you long enough to get in here. Geez...”

“...What?” Harry was dumbfounded.

“Do you know how hard it is to open a pathway in your mind?! It took Dementors to do it, hundreds of them, and basically a lesson of how-not-to-screw with someone's head that managed to get myself into the link that you've obviously been using to spy on me!”

Harry blinked, sitting up as the world around him resolved into more features beyond the immediate stone chairs and white-shadowed grass. He was suddenly aware of the sounds of fighting, of spells being reflective and re-directed. Of small explosions and shouts beyond him. He looked in no particular direction and saw two figures, shadowed by the whiteness of the world, battling one another. Spells were flying this way and that, but there was no wand in either one's hands.

A quick moment of clarity provided the identity of the two fighting just beyond where he and the Black Queen sat on the ground.

Merlin and Morgana.

Hopes versus Fears.

A snort made Harry turn to see his counterpart staring at the two before looking back at him. “Yeah, gotta let her have a go at your keeper, you see. Made it easier to distract him letting her have her fun. Good for me too, I guess. Her whinging and all sorts of talk of revenge of necessity was starting to get a bit boring for me.”

Harry felt a thrill of emotion shoot through him and the world suddenly turned a radiant blue hue before reflecting back to stark white. He saw his counterpart look around, a crooked smile on the corner of his lips. “Funny that, this world. Reacts to you, but in a very unusual manner. But it wasn't easy,” the Black Queen leaning forward again, resting on the balls of his feet as he crouched at eye level. “Thought you'd be an open book, easy to read, but I guess it takes a lot of emotional stress or whatever you call it, emotional distress, to finally break through your barriers. Dementors would have done it, but your little bushy-haired friend had to Awaken and save your skin. Ah well, seems like it was the prudent way, talking with that _witch_ who calls herself Mum, seems to have weakened your barriers enough for me to finish that job and get you here.”

The world splashed another radiant blue as Harry struggled to get his emotions under control. He felt shocked, surprised, but most of all a thrill of fear that shot through him. What his counterpart was saying could not be true, but at the same time, he could not help but _feel_ the truth in his words.

“What...” the world turned a bit blue before he managed to make it white again, “what do you...want?”

The Black Queen snorted, shaking his head, “You dolt, I just wanted to talk.”

Harry was wary, and his eyes darted all around the Black Queen as he gingerly pushed himself up from his elbows to his hands. He absently rubbed his forehead, noting that it throbbed with pain, but it did not feel that oppressive. It was weird, though, that it was supposedly in his head, in his...world...for the lack of a better word, and yet he could not discern anything. He glanced towards the fog where the sounds of battle raged just beyond his vision. There were clear sounds of explosions, a clanging of metal that made him think Merlin and Morgana were fighting with swords or something, but he still could not discern anything.

A tsking sound made him turn back to see the Black Queen staring at him with a simple gaze. Harry realized that his counterpart was telling the truth – there was no intention of hurting him and he just wanted to talk.

Harry pushed himself up further and wished he could lean against something. His body ached, his head hurt- And just like that the stone chair that was nearby suddenly disappeared and he felt a rough slab of something against his back. He sagged against it, staring at the Black Queen who stared back at him, emerald green eyes watching him closely.

“You look like shite, mate,” the Black Queen stated.

Harry could not help the snort of dark humor that emerged from his nose and mouth. “What do you want?” he asked again as he concentrated on breathing in and out, to lessen the pain he felt. To his relief, the world stayed a steady white.

“A warning, my dear counterpart,” the Black Queen rocked back and forth on his heels. Harry looked at him, surprised. “What? Surprised? I know who you are, Harry James Potter. I know you are me and I am you. I know you come from a different world and that you're not here voluntarily. The Weavers tell so much to those who come Heirs.”

He sat forward. “So I am here,” the smile that his counterpart had was very unkind, “to give you a warning. Stay out of my way, yeah?”

Harry frowned.

“Stay out of my way. This is _not_ your world and I frankly don't care if you are Hopes or whatever your Dreamer thinks you are. Stay out of my way, stay _out_ of my head, and we won't have this problem anymore.”

“If you-”

“If you think?” the Black Queen laughed derisively and it sounded so eerie to Harry, to hear his voice produce such a noise. “'If you think?' You think that type of threat is going to stop me? You think you can stop me?!”

“I did,” Harry felt a burst of anger flare in him and the world turned red for a moment before white. He quieted as did his counterpart who looked up and around, the glistening flat-edged crystals of geometric shapes rotating around them. It was followed by two successive blasts and a triumphant male-sounding “Hah!” followed by a female shriek of pain and anger.

“I stopped you, stopped your plans. Stopped you from doing harm to the Potters-”

“The Founders' Ball was nothing-”

“I stopped you at Hogsmeade,” Harry barreled over his counterpart's words, “I stopped Grindelwald's plans for Cardiff-”

“If we wanted Cardiff to fall then it would have fallen-”

“No, you baited Voldemort and you lied,” Harry countered, remembering the waking dream he had during the celebrations, “I stopped your attack on the Hogwarts Express-”

The Black Queen laughed darkly. “That is what you think,” he said, rolling his eyes behind the round glasses he had. “That's what _I_ wanted you to think! I knew you were _seeing_ into my mind, I knew you could see. I knew you spied my plans, I knew what you were watching. I know you can see into my head, and I'm suspecting it has something to do with the fact that you're me, so the battle was just a bait, little Harry. Just the bait...”

The world flashed a sickly green as Harry felt his confidence deflate. All of the people, all the bodies, the twisted wreck of the Express. Everyone that survived, those that died...the Dementors. The attack was just a feint? But... What of what James and the others speculated that it was perhaps to deceive Voldemort and Grindelwald? Had they read it wrong- No! Harry clamped down hard on the dizzying thoughts. He could not doubt, not now, not after everything. He instinctively knew that this was a tactic of the Dreamer of Fears to make him doubt to make him _fear_ and anything and everything was somehow amplified in this twisted world.

“You're wrong,” Harry managed to make the world a grey-white, as he tried to tamp down on the sudden surge of doubt and fear. “You're wrong.”

There was something on edge in the Black Queen's smile as he stared back, and slowly rocked backwards on his heels. A snort of amusement issued from his lips. “Well, at least you're a tough nut to crack. Another world's Harry Potter – good thing he's not that weak.” He laughed, an ugly sound. “I think I'm going to enjoy this...”

“I won't bow to your will,” Harry glared at the Black Queen, the colors flashing a reddish-orange hue. “I'll never bow to Fears.”

“Stay out of my head,” his counterpart suddenly said, his voice simple without even a hint of malice in it. It was a confusing change, pivoting from cold maliciousness to a tone that bordered on matter-of-fact. “Stay out of my head and I'll stay out of yours. Stay out of my head and I won't be forced to do something you won't like. I am willing to guess you really don't want me seeing some precious secrets...like your conflicting feelings on the Potions Master, Severus Snape-”

The sky flashed a heart-wrenching purple streaked with yellow and sickly green before it turned white again.

“-Ah...Voldemort's Death Eater who was given what he wished the most, my Muggleborn mother of a _witch_ , Lily,” the Black Queen finished with a toothy smile. “But it's rather fascinating that you don't know...do you?”

The last question sounded genuine and Harry saw the sky flash another sickly green before he tamped down on the fear, on the possibility that this world _knew_ Severus Snape was a spy for Dumbledore. Because if he knew, then Snape's life would be forfeit, because if and when they were out of this mindscape, this world, then there was no stopping the Black Queen from tattling on Voldemort and Grindelwald, about Severus Snape. That Snape would deserve the same fate he bestowed upon Hestia Jones and he would be summarily killed. Because in all of Harry's fears, he did not want to see Snape dead – not again, not like he died by Voldemort's snake Nagini- Died without-

His silence only made the Black Queen laugh lightly as he rocked back on his heels and stared at him some more, head tilted to the side as if he was to stare at him with some morbid curiosity. “You really do not know...” Wonderment crossed his counterpart's features. “You are in for a large surprise, though I do not honestly know if it'll be pleasant or not for you.” He shook his head, “Ask him. Go on, ask him, and see if Snape will answer it. See if you trust him after that, see if you who are so afraid of him, of his fate, of something about him, that will break your trust him the next time we meet.”

“You won't turn me against him-”

“Don't say such silly things until you truly understand this world, Harry James Potter,” the Black Queen chided. “You may fear, you may hope, but you will _never_ be the savior that every one thinks you'll be-”

Harry could not help the bubble of forced laughter that fell from his lips, but it immediately shut the Black Queen up.

“What,” his counterpart stated flatly.

“No one gets it, I _don't_ want to be this world's savior. I want to go home and in order to do that-” he suddenly quieted as he stared at the Black Queen for a long moment. It occurred to him what this world's Harry Potter had been saying. What was so different about them and what he needed to do to align the cores, so to speak, of this world's Harry with his own in order to send himself back home. He already had three waking dreams as this world's Harry, whereas his counterpart was barely able to force one and it resulted in...this world, so to speak.

And that was when Harry noticed why his counterpart was standing on the balls of his feet, why he kept rocking back and forth, why he was curled up. Because he was in _pain_.

It hurt for his counterpart to force such a connection whereas it was _easy_ , unbelievably easy, for Harry to do so from his end. In fact, so easy that he randomly slipped in and out of the Black Queen's head unlike Legilimency without any sign of resistant Occulmency. And that of itself prickled Harry's curiosity. Why was it easy for him and not easy for his counterpart to do the same? It was taking all of the Black Queen's concentration and effort to keep him here, Harry realized, blustering and frank words aside. But there was one thing that was correct; if this was truly a dreamscape of sorts in Harry's head, it meant that the tenuous connection between the two of them was held together by the only odd force that existed in the world – the Dreamers.

And Fears was the invader.

Harry forced himself to push past the aches and pains that had been inflicted upon him by his abrupt arrival in this foggy, crystalline world, and pushed himself up from the stone slab, twisting with a Seeker's unerring grace, past the Black Queen and raced towards the sounds of battle. He stretched a hand out. “ _Merlin!_ ” he shouted.

He received his answer by way of a hand slapping into his own and gripping it firmly. Harry tightened the grip and pulled himself into the fog of the battle and came face to face with the lanky young man that introduced himself as the Dreamer of Hopes in his Merlin persona. Bleeding cuts and scraps of torn cloth indicated that a fierce battle had been fought, but Harry did not give much attention to it as he turned and immediately pulled Merlin _behind_ him, protecting him with his own body just as a dark spell was hurled towards them.

Harry refused to cry out as he felt something tear across his chest, lash of pain followed by the wetness of something bleeding, as he held his hand out.

“ _Protego!”_ he shouted and the Shield Charm expanded outward from his hand. It slammed with the force of a thousand sledgehammers into the darkly beautiful form of Morgana, the Dreamer of Fears who stood on a rocky outcropping that was unlike the last time he witnessed the two fight over Salazar Slytherin. She screamed, and toppled from the rocky outcropping, into the fog- Out of his mind-

Somewhere, Harry thought he heard a desperate plea of “No!” that sounded like his own voice.

But it was lost as he found his position reversed with Merlin suddenly embracing him tightly, shielding him as he shielded the Dreamer, before the Dreamer's voice shouted towards the sky, “Now, Wisdom, now!”

And the white world became just too bright in Harry's eyes-

Harry coughed and found himself looking into multiple sets of worried eyes as the world resolved itself around him once more. The familiar scents of minty and soothing potions assaulted his nose and he coughed again, feeling utterly sore all over. He groaned, blinking again, as he reached a hand up to rub his nose. Something soft yet hard was cushioning his back.

“Oh thank Merlin, you're all right,” a voice that sounded like Sirius' spoke up, “Hey James! You can stop worrying, he's awake now!”

He was helped up as he coughed again and winced, the aches of his muscles feeling like he either got run over by several hippogriffs or had at least rounds of the Cruciatus Curse cast over him. He could not decide which was the better one. Harry blinked again as the eyes backed away and revealed themselves to be his friends, Sirius, and Lily, all whom were staring at him with degrees of concern in their eyes.

“Harry?” Hermione was the first to lean back down again and reached out a tentative hand to rest on his shoulder.

Harry craned his neck to see that Ginny was standing almost behind him and he realized that he was all but sitting half against her legs. He winced and pushed himself up with his hands, a little embarassed that it was probably Ginny to whom he had fallen, fell, or was placed on before he woke up.

“You...pulled me out again?” he asked, looking at Hermione.

“Yes,” she looked at him sadly, the same eyes she had stared at him with when he woke up after Godric's Hollow, after the Hogwarts Express. “Harry-”

“It was him,” Harry shook his head gingerly, “Black Queen...” He avoided looking at Lily, but was aware of her slight aborted movement at the mention of the chess piece title. “He...he...saw?”

“You were having a fit again, like you did at the Express,” Hermione murmured and Harry closed his eyes for a moment, squeezing them shut before opening them again. “Harry...”

“Yeah, I know,” he felt a burst of annoyance flare in him, “Occlumency. Snape, Occlumency, I get it. It's not like I'm voluntarily letting him in my head, you know. It's like the whole thing with Voldemort, except that one time I forced myself to see where he was during the battle...”

There was a strangled noise from Sirius and he opened his eyes to look up to see his godfather staring at him, surprise coloring his features. Harry realized that he had not explained what happened between him and Voldemort in his world to Sirius – nor to Lily judging by the surprise crossing her face too.

“We know, we get that, but Harry...what happens...” Hermione trailed off.

Harry grimaced as he understood Hermione's unspoken words. What if Hermione, now awakened to her Dreamer powers, was the next one of them to leave? What if her counterpart in this world was ready to take over just as quickly as Neville's did and then head to the battlefield. They all knew that Hermione Granger of this world was eighteen, if not nineteen already, and probably fighting the war on the front lines like Neville Longbottom in this world. Granted she was on the Express with Ron, but they did not know what happened to their counterparts in this world once they graduated Hogwarts. It was so very different than the events of their world.

If Hermione's counterpart was ready, it meant that if he did not learn to Occlude, or somehow made it so that his counterpart could not _see_ into his mind, then he may not have Wisdom's ability readily available to pull him out. He could not rely on Hermione's abilities, even though she had just awakened.

He coughed, wincing as his sore muscles and aching joints pulled with the abrupt movement. He did not know why he was coughing even though he did not feel any tickling in his throat nor anything that would warrant it. Harry pushed that troubling though aside as Ron reached out a hand and helped him up. He swayed a little before steadying himself on his feet. “Thanks,” he glanced back and reached out for Ginny's hand and squeezed it. She squeezed back, silent, but staring at him. He could feel the Dreamer of Faith staring back out from Ginny's expression. It was eerie in a sense, but Harry felt soothed by it and could feel his own Dreamer's reaction towards it too.

“I think perhaps all of you would do well to sleep and rest from your injuries,” Sirius spoke up, his voice solemn, quiet.

Harry finally noticed that his godfather was covered liberally in bandages from the cuts his robes sustained. It must have been a fierce battle on the bridge, Harry surmised, judging by the state of Sirius' injuries. But he seemed to not be in much pain and Harry was glad.

“I think so too,” Harry agreed.

He gingerly walked out from the back of the Potions classroom towards the front where he saw his father, still exhausted-looking and in pain, lying down on the bench. However, he was awake, staring at them through his glasses. A small smile quirked up on his lips and he nodded as they passed by before Harry saw him shuffle and turn to the other side, content to finally rest seeing that he was all right. It warmed Harry to know that his father, even after that same expression he had just seen, wanted to make sure he was all right before resting himself.

He glanced back to see Sirius pat James gently on the shoulder before following them. Just before he left the classroom, he turned and nodded his thanks to Lily who followed them all the way to the edges of the tables and she nodded back, an unreadable expression on her face.

The rest of the trip was in silence as they shuffled their way up to the Room of Requirement and the door appeared after Ron walked past it the third time. Harry climbed in and was mildly surprised to see Lupin sitting on one of the couch cushions, seemingly asleep. However, the other man opened his eyes as they stepped and a kind smile graced his features.

“I'm glad to see you are all all right,” Lupin's smile was tinged with worry that made Harry a little suspicious. He turned and saw the tail exchange of a nod from Sirius to Remus before he turned back.

“What's...”

“Faith, if you would be so kind to return Ginny to her bed?”

Harry blinked and stepped out of the way as Ginny moved past him. He realized it was the reason why Ginny was silent through the whole thing and why he saw Faith when he looked at her – she was literally Faith – and somehow seemingly puppeting Ginny's body. A thrill of fear shot through him as he wondered if the Dreamer had possessed Ginny-

“It is not possession,” Lupin suddenly cut through his thoughts as they watched as Ginny mechanically sat down on her four-poster bed before curling underneath the covers. Her body immediately seemingly exhaled and seemingly relaxed, as if she was asleep all along. “Faith, or maybe Ginny in her sleep, knew you were in trouble, but neither could she awaken from the restful sleep she put herself in after today's battle. I can tell you with certainty that she is aware of what's happening, but in the muddled after-dream sense.”

“...Are you sure, Professor?” Hermione asked as they stepped in. “It's still unusual-”

Lupin hid a smile behind a hand. “It happens more often than not to those who possess Faith. At least I think for the last person that possessed Faith. Lily...used to do the same whenever James was in trouble and she had overexerted herself too much...”

Harry felt himself warm in embarrassment, but was saved from Hermione's further questions as Lupin cleared his throat and gestured for them come further in. “I will be staying here tonight with you all to ensure some safety precautions after today's events.”

“Safety precautions?” Ron asked, disappearing into the boys bathroom for a moment before emerging dressed in his pajamas.

“Today's attack was unprecedented as many in the Wizarding World feel that we have turned a new page in the war against the Dark Lord and his forces. Unfortunately, while that page was turned, and we are perceived as to have gone on the offensive, the injuries and deaths of students that occurred necessitated the precautions,” Lupin sighed and his mouth twisted unhappily, “there are those who are looking to blame the one whose decided to assume full responsibility of the attack.”

A pit of dread formed in Harry as he realized what he had said to Dumbledore that he was to take full responsibility instead of James. Lupin did not meet his sharp look and instead adopted a serene expression on his face. “The Minister wants some precautions to be taken tonight in case there is a threat of retaliation.”

“I thought this place was safe,” Ron's voice suddenly turned deeper and all of them jumped a little to hear Godric Gryffindor's booming growl.

“It is, but seeing that all of you are somewhat unfamiliar with your Dreamer powers, I took it upon myself to ensure that there are no mental retaliation tonight and will be casting my own wards as Temperance to ensure your further safety.”

“You...you mean the Black Queen...” Harry trailed off, unsure if what he just experienced was one such type of attack.

“I do not know, truly,” Remus looked apologetic, “Hopes and even Fears, we know so little about them save for the war we've fought for so long.”

Harry glanced back to see Sirius lingering by the door, his expression solemn and for the first time, Harry noticed that his wand was in his hand; held out and ready to hex anything that might have attacked them from their walk from the Potions classroom to the Room of Requirement.

“Auror Sadow, her brother, and those who were not so seriously injured in the battle, are keeping an eye on things tonight, Harry,” Remus nodded to Sirius who nodded back and bade them a goodnight with a tip of his fingers flicking off of his brow. He closed the door behind them.

“The castle. You're worried about Moody? Crouch?”

“We, including the Minister, are worried about retaliation from those within the castle against yourselves. Especially since the Minister says that you took full responsibility from James, Harry,” Lupin did not look like he was condemning him, but rather his expression was sad, almost sympathetic. Harry did not know how to interpret it.

“It was a magical contract, wasn't it?” Godric's voice was rough with an unidentified emotion, but Lupin nodded.

“Yes.”

“Merlin you prat,” Ron and Godric leveled him a dark glare before both huffed off to bed, grumbling about Gryffindors who were too noble for their own good.

“Professor?” Hermione asked.

“From what I gleaned from Head Auror Moody, it seems you interrupted a contract that was between the Minister and James, did you not?”

“It didn't look like one,” Harry finally understood why his father told him that he should have not have done what he did. He did not want to voice to Lupin or to any of the others what he thought had happened between Dumbledore and James when he walked into the nearly empty staff room.

Lupin did not say anything except sympathetically nod and gestured for them to go to their beds. “Do not worry about tonight, we'll keep an eye on things.”

Harry only gave him a long look before heading to the bathroom to shower and change out of his robes. It was then that he noticed he had a few cuts and bruises, but fresh bandages had been placed over them. He discarded his robes and carefully showered, using mostly a sponge to clean off the dirt and dust he acquired all over his body before sticking his head under the shower head to at least clean his hair. It was not the best bath he had, but he felt better once he was able to rinse off the smell of the earthen dirt, the smoke of the fires, and the griminess of battle.

He changed into his pajamas and threw his ripped robes and clothes into a nearby trashcan. It would probably be emptied by the house elves by the morning. Hermione was already asleep in her bed by the time he was done and as he padded quietly over to his own four-poster bed, he saw that Remus was sitting in a meditative pose on the cushions. His eyes were closed and his breathing was even, but something that felt calming and soothing seemingly emanated from him.

Harry could not help the small smile that appeared on his lips as he let the feeling wash over him, calming him further. He could feel the Dreamer within him settle more comfortably in his mind, mumbling about how Temperance was always a good Dreamer. Remus was right, Harry supposed, he could not do anything tonight and the best thing after what happened today was to get a good night's rest. After all, he had a feeling it would be the last restful night he would have in a very long time. With that, Harry climbed into his bed, set his glasses on his end table, and closed his eyes.

Sleep came quickly to him, and with that, a _Dream_.


	27. Letters of Regret

The lone figure sat on the grass, picking at it with an absent hand staring out at the seascape. The cries of the gulls echoed in the air, but Harry could not discern where they were. He knew it was a seascape because it reminded him greatly of Shell Cottage and the rolling small dunes of sand that dotted the area. It felt safe here and Harry approached the figure sitting on the grass before he sat next to him, feeling the coarseness of the sand through his clothes and watched as more sandy dune-grass was absently plucked and ripped from the stems.

“Dreamscape,” Merlin did not meet his eyes, staring out towards the foggy seascape. “Capital 'D'. Nothing to be afraid of, much better than the mindscape we were in earlier. Safer. Just you and me, well, technically yourself talking to, yourself, but who's counting these days.”

Harry laughed lightly at the attempted humor. For all of the times he interacted with his Dreamer, whether it was vague feelings or perhaps a comment or two on things happening around him, most of it was allusions, perhaps one or two sarcastic remarks, but nothing that really made him laugh until now. He realized that it was a testament to perhaps even the Dreamer feeling a stress of sorts after all that happened since his arrival into the world.

“It's peaceful...reminds me of-”

“Shell Cottage,” Merlin finished for him, as an imaginary breeze picked up a few strands of his dark brown hair, ruffling it before the breeze settled. The distant cry of a gull rendered the Dreamscape's air and Harry could almost imagine the taste of the salty sea air, the slightly pungent odor of things left to rot on the beach, dried salt, and perhaps a hint of whatever Fleur and Bill were cooking in their home. “I know...I took this from your memories after everything. Figured something soothing would be welcomed.” Merlin finally turned to him, his clear blue eyes blinking once. “I'm sorry...I made a promise to not intrude on your memories if you didn't-”

Harry vaguely remembered the Dreamer making such a promise, but he shook his head. “It's fine. It's soothing enough...and...I take it you wanted to talk?”

This time it was Merlin's chance to laugh and the ghost of a smile appeared on his lips as he ducked his head and turned back to look at the seascape. “This is our second official conversation, the one with the Weavers not withstanding, and yet you've picked up so much, Harry. So much, so quickly...”

Harry warmed at the pride in heard in Merlin's voice. It reminded him of Dumbledore's quiet mannerisms, his joy and satisfaction at the decisions he made in the aftermath of the Battle for Hogwarts. It was a quiet sense of respect and of dignity that belied the wisdom in Merlin's voice. And it reminded Harry of how ancient and old Merlin, no, the Dreamer of Hopes really was. A thought occurred to him.

“How...old...are...”

Merlin's lips twitched in a dim smile. “Old, Harry, very old. Perhaps past time immemorial. Older than known magic. The tales of Merlin and his Knights in this world are true. We existed past then and it was perhaps the first written and known incarnation of our division, our fight against the Seven Sins of Man versus the Six Virtues. But in your world, perhaps we existed in a different form. I do not know... Magic as you well know, has a sentience that neither you, nor I, nor your bright friend Hermione could ever figure out. That is why there is Magical Theory classes taught everywhere. Why people experiment, push the edges and boundaries of magic – both evil and good.”

“Voldemort and his Horcruxes,” Harry murmured and Merlin nodded, still staring out at the seascape. Harry could almost hear the lapping of waves, crashing against the rocky shores nearby while riding smoothly up to the sands of the beach before them and retreating just as fast.

“The creation of spells you may not have known or knew-”

 _For Enemies_ \- was quickly chased by _Sectumsempra_ in Harry's mind and he could see in the far distance, himself battling Malfoy in the bathrooms, the spell slashing across Malfoy's chest, the blood spilling. It was a creation of the Half-Blood Prince, Snape's creation, and he used it without knowledge without a thought of the consequences. The memory faded, leaving the serene peacefulness of the sand dunes and tufts of tough beach grass. Harry reached down and picked at one, rubbing the rough harsh salt-beaten grass in his fingers. They came away stained a bit of green.

Harry dropped the piece of grass and stared out towards the sea, adopting a similar pose to Merlin as he pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on them. “Can you, are you willing to tell me what happened with your previous...host?” He wrinkled his nose at the word – it still wasn't good enough to describe what the Dreamer was to him. Companion, ally, all those words did not fit either. Host just made it sound parasitic.

“...No,” Merlin uncurled his legs and picked at the grass, “Not now...I'm not ready...”

Harry was quiet. He wanted to demand, wanted to know, but at the same time was well aware of what this Dreamscape was, what it clearly meant to Merlin and to himself. This was sanctuary. And it was Merlin who invited him to talk. He could not demand answers, even if they inhabited the same shared space – it was just plain rude.

“Have I Awakened?” he asked instead, changing tactics.

Another ghost of a smile flitted across Merlin's face. “No,” he shook his head, “and I cannot help you there.”

“But...it felt like...” Harry bit his lip and thought back to the moments Remus had coached him through how to reach out with his Dreamer powers. “It felt like I was holding a really slippery version of my Invisibility Cloak. I could feel it, I could hold it, but then it just slip out-”

“Temperance was right, Harry,” Merlin looked at him, bright blue eyes meeting emerald green ones, “don't push. It will come naturally.”

Harry frowned. “Will you teach me?”

“ _Will you teach me?”_

_Her voice was impish as was her smile and Merlin found himself drawn to her. She was beautiful as the Lake she was born from. Nimue lifted a hand towards him and he grasped it, pulling her towards him. She laughed, crystal, clear, high, a pleasant music in his ears. She was the first woman he ever loved and one he sought to protect from Morgana and Mab._

“ _I will,” he replied._

_She laughed again and he kissed her gently on the lips. If Arthur could have seen it, he knew that he would be laughing. Merlin, Court Sorcerer falling in love. But he never knew that Merlin had met Nimue when they were mere children. That Vortigen almost sacrificed her to a dragon because Mab whispered corruption in her ears. Vortigen deserved his death and Nimue was safely in a convent where she was able to recover from her burn wounds. But she would never marry, never love, because no man would have wanted her._

_Except for him._

_And he loved her. He would teach her because he knew that one day, he would have to leave her and protect Arthur. Because of Prophecy, because of Mordred, of Morgana, and of the lingering threat of Mab. He Hoped, he could teach her enough to protect her. He Feared and Hoped he could teach her enough._

Harry watched as the image faded before them, the seascape returning. “She betrayed you...” he murmured and Merlin's smile became a little brittle.

“Selwyn was the first to see it,” Merlin said quietly, “I didn't believe her. Didn't want to believe. Closed myself off from it all. When Nimue became a Dreamer, I do not even know, but it was too late when she ensnared me.”

“What was she?” Harry asked.

“Covetousness,” Merlin replied, “subtle, probably the most subtle Dreamer of the Sins. Perhaps one of the most neutral and least malicious ones too from our history. I do think she loved me in return, but she coveted it, bound it, kept it for herself and refused anyone access to it.”

Harry was quiet as he thought on Merlin's words. He expected all the Dreamers to be bombastic, grandiose with their words and actions as the ones they fought had shown. Even the Virtues showed a lot of strength and power. From what was said, it seemed that there was at least one Dreamer who disliked the spotlight if Nimue as the Dreamer of Covetousness was anything to go by. He made a note to perhaps ask Dumbledore or even James if they knew who was this generation's Covetousness – and perhaps a known list of the Dreamers that were current. The book on Merlin and his Knights said nothing about their Dreamer powers and Harry suspected that perhaps there was nothing written about Dreamer powers – especially considering that Marius Sadow's research regarding Dreamers made mention of the lack of concrete information. He wondered if Hermione would be willing to speak to the non-Auror half of the Sadows, having not gotten the chance in the few days between the meeting and the battle.

Merlin suddenly twitched and shook himself as if coming out of a nap and looked at him. “Let's get you fixed up, shall we?”

“What?” Harry was confused.

The Dreamer reached out with a spindly finger and pointed at his chest. “You got hurt in the mindscape. That's why you were coughing when you came out of it.”

“But I didn't-”

“Here,” Merlin held out his palm against his chest and brought it slowly down near a corner of his hip. Harry was mildly surprised to see something sickly green with black writhing things that might have been tentacles except they looked like miniature digits, slashed across his own chest. He wanted to throw up as he felt sickened looking at it.

“H-How...”

“A Dreamer battle that occurs in a mindscape or even in this Dreamscape is a dangerous thing, Harry,” Merlin seemed nonplussed, “it is why Dreamers always seek to protect their-”

“Keeper?” Harry suggested.

Merlin nodded, considering it. “All right, their Keeper, first and foremost. Because we deal with ancient magic that one may not think is possible, that could not even begin to comprehend, we protect our...Keeper in the sense from any untoward attacks that may be launched.”

“So...”

“Dreamer battles, true Dreamer battles, involve both the physical and mental. From what I gathered, you may have had a taste for it with Voldemort's Horcruxes?”

Harry shuddered a little as images of the the locket and how it affected him, Ron, and Hermione flitted through the Dreamscape before them. The ghostly echo of its dying screams rendered the air as it faded away, leaving only the serene beach once more. “Hogsmeade?”

“A mere simple test, and only from an Heir to an Heir...” Merlin replied with a kind, sympathetic smile, “Morgana's final clash with Merlin leveled the area known as Camlann...perhaps, when you are ready, you will Dream it.” His hand hovered over the black slash that was writhing all over Harry's chest.

“I don't...it doesn't hurt-”

“It will not, but like any dark magic, it will grow, become a parasite, latch onto you and make you fear and doubt as it is what the cruelest of magic it can be. It is designed to twist your soul, render you helpless,” Merlin stared at the slash mark, his sad smile growing even more melancholic, “you were not supposed to protect me, Harry. It was I who was supposed to do that when we were forcibly pulled into the mindscape by the Black Queen and Fears...”

“But-”

“We are tools, Harry. Like your wand, your Cloak of Invisibility. We are magic itself, bound to serve as the entities of this world. We are Dreamers-”

“No offense, but you look and sound human-”

“If only because your subconscious insist on giving us a voice,” Merlin gently moved his hand back and forth, but Harry could see no difference. “And so I appear human to you, taking on the form you latched onto when you arrived in this world and was suggested to take on by Albus. It is our nature, our innate nature to protect, to be the tools that one needs to be an Heir and to eventually be a Dreamer incarnate.” The young man did not meet his gaze as he focused on the writhing mass. “I've never had a Keeper protect me like you did in that moment, without a second thought. Thank you...”

The words were barely above a whisper and even in the Dreamscape, Harry almost did not hear it. Perhaps he was not meant to hear it as Merlin quieted and continued to move his hand back and forth. Harry sat in pensive silence, wondering why would someone, some _thing_ , thank him for doing such a thing. He did not want to feel pity, but at the same time it bothered him to think that no other person, no other Keeper of a Dreamer did the same to their...entity, tool, whatever they want to call it.

He loved his phoenix core wand and was saddened when it nearly ripped in half. He was overjoyed when he was able to repair it with the Elder Wand. He loved his Invisibility Cloak and went to great lengths to ensure that it was always with him. Both were cared for in the sense that they were useful tools, but for some odd reason, he could not see his Dreamer who sat within him this Dreamscape as a tool. Perhaps Merlin was right, he did give voice to a Dreamer and they were just like wands and cloaks. To be cared for until there was no use or another Heir took over.

So why did it bother him so much?

After what seemed like a while, Merlin sighed and sat back, a satisfied expression on his face. “All right, this will hurt a little when I remove it from you and transfer it to myself-”

“Wait, what?”

Merlin winced, “There's no way to not make it hurt, Harry-”

“No, wait, what do you mean transfer it from me to you? You can't get rid of it?”

“With time, perhaps, it will slowly be absorbed and it will scar, but it is what we do as Dreamers-”

“But it's still going to be there, right?”

“...Yes?”

“How long will it take?”

“I...don't know...months? It is a rather large cut-”

“So what happens if I say no-”

“Harry-”

“You're Hopes,” Harry stared at Merlin, “Hopes. Everyone's counting on you in this world, right?”

Merlin blinked, surprised. “Well...as the Littlest Dreamer-”

“But if you're just a tool, and say like this is like a fabric tear or maybe some damage to a wand, you won't be as effective for a while until it gets repaired right?” Harry jumped on the explanation, feeling a little like Hermione when she picked up on a thread that they did not.

“...I suppose so,” Merlin look reluctant before rolling his blue eyes, “Harry, this is ridiculous-”

“No,” Harry shook his head and pulled back, “I'll be fine-”

“You're coughing,” Merlin pointed out with a raised eyebrow, concerned, “it will get worse if it stays with you-”

“Can't you shield it or something? Temporarily heal it?”

“...I can...but why-”

“Well, the way I see it, I'm not exactly the true Heir to the Dreamer of Hopes, right? It's probably the Black Queen – which is going to be hard – but he's probably the real Heir like Neville as Justice was to this world's Neville. So maybe, if I go back to my world, and since the Dreamers don't exist there, then this mark, won't come back with me, right?”

“You don't know that...” Merlin looked worried.

“Yeah, I don't, but the way I see it, if it's something I can do to help you, help this world, help some way of getting the Black Queen to not be the Heir of Fears and instead Heir of Hopes, then maybe it'll help,” Harry shrugged.

“Harry,” Merlin looked exasperated.

“You're Hopes, Merlin. The people in this world look up to you. You're the one constant in this world. Your Keepers come and go, but you're the constant. If this is just Fears' power on me, then it's fine. I know my fears, I know not to give in to it.”

Merlin opened his mouth, but closed it after a few seconds. He stared at him for a long moment before nodding. “All right, if you insist-”

“I do,” Harry replied quickly.

“I will mask it, start the healing process, but it will be very slow. You will Dream each night and it will not be pleasant. This is Fears' work and it was something you were never meant to see or feel unless your Dreamer entity was crippled or gone. But you took it upon yourself willingly, so it may be different for you. I truly do not know...”

“I've got you to help,” Harry smiled, feeling both brave and fearful. “I've got Ron, Hermione, Ginny, even Neville. I've got James, Sirius, my Mum...”

There was something unreadable in Merlin's smile as he moved his hand across the wicked mark and the black writhing mass slowly disappeared. “Good luck, Harry James Potter...”

The beach started to fade away and Harry knew that the _Dream_ was almost over. He realized that Merlin didn't answer his question – whether or not he would teach him. But he couldn't voice it as he felt himself being pulled out of the _Dream_. It was almost all gone before the last words floated out from Merlin's voice.

“ _...Your Trial to Awaken has begun...”_

* * *

Remus Lupin opened his eyes as he felt something across the bond he had with Temperance. He adjusted his posture on the cushion he had taken to meditate and use to soothe the room with his powers. The soft snores of its four occupants filled the air. He wanted to say they were children, but they were all over the age of majority and he knew he could not call them children. Not with the war that made all children grow up so fast.

 _The trial has begun_ , the entity whispered in the back of his mind. It almost seemed excited, hopeful.

_Will it be long?_

_Yes...yes..._ Temperance seemed mournful. _Such pain, such hardship...the poor boy..._

Remus tried to keep himself from feeling the same mournful feeling as his Dreamer. But it was hard as he knew from long experience that Hopes' trial to Awaken was probably the hardest. It was easy to figure out when certain Heirs would Awaken into full Dreamers as Faith, Wisdom, and Justice had magical beings that forcibly Awakened their powers. They were usually the most physical and the ones to boldly protect. Hopes, even his own, Temperance, were the hardest. Courage fell somewhere in between, and it seemed Ron teetered on the edges of Awakening, but at times did not.

Hopes' trial was the hardest because it was rare for Hopes to take on Heirs so fast. The most methodical of all Dreamers to pick Heirs was Hopes and its counterpart, Fears. It was why for the longest time, Grindelwald kept his power as did Dumbledore. Remus learned this when he became Temperance's Steward. His Dreamer saw through three of his Stewards in the the span when Dumbledore became Hopes and Grindelwald, Fears. So to find out that both of them were losing their powers almost at the same time was astonishing. The Weavers said nothing about this, but Remus knew that they were fickle and sometimes deigned to give information to anyone.

 _He will prevail_ , he murmured to his Dreamer.

 _Yes, yes..._ Temperance clutched at the sliver he offered, _the Littlest of them all..._

Remus closed his eyes again and allowed himself to bathe in the power of his Dreamer, calming the magic around them, forming a protective barrier against all of the darkness that threatened them tonight. Let the young sleep in peace for tonight...he could give them that much. Because tomorrow, and the days after that, would be filled with the horrors of war. _One more night of peace_.

* * *

The beam of sunlight that streamed through a window created in the Room of Requirement hit his eye at just the right angle that Harry cracked open his eyes blearily before attempting to throw the covers over his head. Within him, he could feel the Dreamer sleepily agree that sunbeams were annoying. But the light kept following him and he cracked his eyes open again to see that the sunbeam had a halo of red around it. He further opened his eyes to see the red halo resolve itself to be Ron's grinning face and rolled his eyes before reaching over for a spare pillow and tossed it in his best friend's general direction in annoyance.

“Hey!” Ron's muffled protest made Harry smile a little as he turned over to his other side.

“Wake up, Harry,” Ron's words were emphasized by his pillow hitting him seconds later and Harry grunted.

He tried to move away from the attacking pillow, but Ron kept following him and finally Harry rolled back over and grabbed the offending pillow before Ron could continue to hit him with it and sat up. “I'm up, I'm up...” he grumbled as he reached for his glasses and put them on, absently yawning and rubbing the back of his head. He could feel spikes of his own messy hair sticking out all over the place. “What are you doing up so early – and even before me?” he peered at his friend who looked awake, dressed, and generally ready to go.

“Blame Godric, he's really cheerful in the mornings,” Ron shrugged, “and wide awake too.”

Harry stared, blinking once, his Dreamer echoing his slightly sleep-addled state with the same stare. He silently shook his head and got out of his bed, grabbing some fresh robes to change into in the bathroom. He was more awake when he exited and found that the others were not in the room.

“Hermione and Ginny said that they were going to the Hospital Wing to help Madam Pomfrey or something like that. I told them we'll meet them in the Great Hall for breakfast and figure out what we should do now that school's back in session,” Ron explained as they left the Room of Requirement.

“Remus?”

“Gone by the time I woke up this morning. I think maybe he's preparing for classes or something?”

“Wait, it's the full moon today, isn't it?”

“Oh yeah...then probably not...” Ron grimaced.

The halls were surprisingly sparse and empty as they made their way down. There were a few students running about, but many of them did not pay much attention to them as they were far away enough and were dressed in regular-looking robes. He supposed that they students probably thought of them as Aurors since it was just he and Ron traveling together instead of the four of them at once. They arrived at the Hospital Wing and entered.

The smell of herbs and mint wafted in the large wing and Harry was struck at how many of the beds were occupied. Some had curtains drawn about while others were of patients who were not as injured but almost ready to leave judging by the state of their bandages and injuries. He grimaced as he walked quietly past the rows upon rows of beds, towards where he saw Hermione and Ginny standing near Madam Pompfrey talking in hushed tones. They looked up and stopped talking as he and Ron arrived and Madam Pompfrey gave the two of them a bracing smile before she went to help others.

“I'm going to see if I can use Wisdom's powers to help amplify some of the healing spells that Madam Pomfrey and her staff are using to accelerate the healing process for the people here,” Hermione had a small smile on her face.

“Sounds good, the families would definitely appreciate it,” Ron reached over and grasped Hermione's hand in a quick squeeze of reassurance.

“Harry, are you feeling better?” Hermione whispered.

“Better,” Harry admitted. He knew he did not have to hide from them anymore, not after everything they went through the previous year, “what happened?”

“We can tell you what else happened during breakfast,” Hermione replied.

Harry nodded before he remembered about his thoughts on Marius Sadow and the Dreamer lore. “Uh, I was hoping that maybe one of you could ask Marius about any and all information on the Dreamers?”

“I can do that,” Ginny said, “I was also going to see what the Luna Lovegood in this world might have in terms of information. She said that her father and mother ran the _Quibbler_.”

“Mother?” Harry's eyebrows rose, surprised. Apparently he was not the only one surprised as the others also looked at Ginny.

“Yes. I found this out by asking. Honestly,” Ginny looked a little surprised and miffed at the same time, “who do you think was feeding Neville and all those others who hid away from the Carrows during the school year information?”

“Sorry, Gin, we didn't know...you know...kind of on the run and that sorts, Voldemort, Horcrux hunting, kind of important things,” Ron rolled his eyes and Ginny shook her head.

Harry stared at Ginny for a moment, amazed at her ingenuity and cleverness. He thought he knew her, but he also realized, he truly did not know her because of how little time he spent with her in the last two years. They had gotten together towards the end of his Sixth Year only to be torn apart a month or so later because he did not want to put her in danger. Now, after a few months in this world, he talked, but he really had not gotten the chance to know what her Sixth Year was like; and he suddenly found himself wanting to know all she did to keep herself safe, keep the others safe, but most of all, who she really was.

A not so subtle clearing of Hermione's throat startled Harry out of his minor reverie to receive a dark look from Ron, Ginny who was blushing from his attention on her, and Hermione who was silently shaking her head.

“Merlin?” Madam Pompfrey's voice spoke up and all of them turned to see the head of the Hospital Wing approach with a small parchment in her hand. “Erm...well, normally we would be able to deliver this to whom it needs to be, but when I tried to write the name down...well...it seems like the parchment got confused-”

“What?” Harry had no idea what she was talking about.

Meanwhile, Hermione craned her neck to see what Madam Pomfrey was holding and her mouth became shaped like a small 'o'. “Oh...” she murmured, “um...well...Professor Lupin did say you interrupted a magical contract-”

“It didn't look like one,” Harry insisted, his mind immediately focusing on Hermione's words and what Madam Pomfrey had in her hand. “What is-”

“A list,” the head nurse looked torn, “one I do not think you so young to write-”

“May I see it?” Harry asked.

Madam Pomfrey looked torn between handing the parchment over and saying no before she finally handed it over to him with a look of chagrin on her face. Harry rolled it open and stared at it, his mouth forming a flat line as he saw what it was. Names, addresses, occupation, date of birth, age, known friends and associates, cause of death, and perhaps one or two lines of random tidbit information. But most of all, what was stark was to whom was the next of kin.

These were the names of those that died during the battle – eleven of them.

Harry knew what he was to do – write letters of condolences to the eleven families that would never see their child, wife, husband, brother, or sister ever again. And suddenly his heart felt heavy. He was reminded of the cost for the Battle for Hogwarts just a few months ago. It felt like a lifetime ago. Remus, Tonks, Fred, Colin Creevey who was far too young to participate, and countless of others. Both on the side of the defenders and the attackers.

He swallowed his discomfort and sadness and looked at Madam Pomfrey, letting Merlin color his words so that he did not lose his composure. “Thank you, Madam Pomfrey. I will see that these families receive their letter promptly. Have the deceased been prepared?”

“Yes,” the woman still looked sad, “and please, see me if you need assistance or anyone to talk to about this. You are so young...too young to be writing such things-”

Harry felt Merlin hold up a hand. “I have seen war take away too many innocents. I have written letters to families, have talked to them too. I appreciate your candor and reluctance to shield me from such things, I really do.” He rolled the parchment back up and nodded a farewell to the head of the Hospital Wing.

Harry felt his friends crowd around him as he headed out, but instead of heading back up to the Room of Requirement to write in peace, Harry felt Merlin take him instead to the Great Hall.

“Har-er, Merlin?” Ron whispered behind him.

But Harry could feel Merlin ignoring Ron and Godric as they entered. He was wondering what the Dreamer was doing as he sat down towards the end of one of the tables that was not decorated in House colors, but sat rather close to the door. Harry glanced down towards the end of the table, but there was no one else sitting there. In fact, they sat rather close to the entrance to the Great Hall. His friends reluctantly sat next to him and glance dubiously at the menus on the table.

 _Order a plate of food and some parchment and ink_ , he felt the Dreamer whisper and Harry reluctantly complied. The pop of a house elf producing some parchment, ink, and quill nearly surprised him, but then the house elf popped out of existence and Harry could see a nice platter of breakfast sitting to the side.

“Merlin-”

“Merlin,” Moody's gruff voice boomed towards them and they all nearly jumped in their seats before all looked to see the head Auror walk in, his magical eye swiveling all over the place. He limped towards them and stared at the parchment that Harry unrolled in front of him along with the blank pieces of parchment, ink, and quill he held in his hands. “Ah...see you've gotten Poppy's list.”

“Yes,” Harry could feel the Dreamer take over once more and let him, a little bewildered as to what Merlin was trying to do. He had a feeling it was to make a point of something, but to what end, Harry did not know. Still, after his Dream with Merlin last night, he felt a little more confident in letting his Dreamer guide him in this mixed-up world. Harry reached over and scanned the list. “Head Auror Moody, you were friends with Edgar Bones, were you not?” He glanced back down at the list, realizing who Edgar Bones was – he had a picture of the man who was Amelia Bones' brother and Susan Bones' uncle.

“Aye,” Moody looked shrewdly at him.

“Can you tell me a little about him so that I may compose an appropriate letter to his family?” The words tumbled out of Harry's mouth and for once, he was glad that Merlin was guiding him because of his shock that Edgar Bones was dead.

“Edgar...hmm...Edgar,” Moody nodded, perhaps amiably as his expression turned from shrewd to thoughtful while his magical eye roamed around. “Good man, sharp, not like his sister to be Slytherin, but a loyal Hufflepuff through and through. Got my back when I needed it, never knew to give up. Could have been Gryffindor because of his stubbornness. Didn't know how he died, but he probably took out a bunch of Dementors and Death Eaters with him. Maybe saved the children by making sure the flipping train didn't crush them. Don't know, but it would have seemed appropriate.”

Harry glanced back at the parchment. It mentioned that Edgar's legs were crushed and he died from shock. He suspected that it was probably because the train flipped over and Edgar saved a bunch of students from getting crushed. He glanced back at Moody and suspected that Moody knew what killed Edgar. “Who were the students he saved?” he asked and was rewarded with a twitch of a smile that could have been pride on the Auror's face.

“First Years...Edgar always sat with the First Years...didn't matter what House, what blood, he sat with them and made sure they were protected from the other years that harassed Firsties,” Moody replied.

Harry nodded solemnly, “Thank you, Head Auror Moody...”

“Good lad,” Moody suddenly slapped him firmly on the back, “I'll send others your way...” With that, the other man limped away.

“That's very brave of you, Harry,” Ginny murmured as soon as Moody was out of hearing range.

“Merlin's idea,” he admitted.

“Selwyn thinks it's effective as it enables the letters to be personalized instead of being formal and in that sense, it enables the families to have some closure,” Ginny shrugged in return, “she would know because of her family.”

“Ah,” Harry remembered the story of Selwyn and how she ran away from the Glade and the aftermath.

“Are you going to be okay writing right now? I still think you should write after you've had something to eat-”

“Don't worry about me, you should eat too,” Harry snatched a piece of bacon from the plate he ordered and munched on it absently as he dipped his quill into his ink well and wondered how he should start the letter. To him, it seemed a little callous to be eating and writing a letter of condolence at the same time, but Merlin soothed his trepidation by reminding him that with eleven families to write to, it would be a long day. It was better in the sense that he was in the Great Hall where food could be readily served and if he needed to find someone to talk to about the families he was writing, they would be sure to arrive sooner or later.

“All right...” Hermione looked reluctant, but Ron shrugged and immediately ordered his food. Harry smiled a little at Hermione's eye roll at how typical and disgusting Ron was.

“Ron-”

“What?” his friend was already stuffing scrambled eggs into his mouth.

“Never mind,” Hermione said as Ginny hit him lightly on the arm.

“Manners Ron, Mum didn't raise you to be like this,” Ginny reminded him.

Harry tuned out his friends as he finally put his quill to parchment and started to write.

[ _Dear Mr. and Mrs. Bones, Marie, Amelia, and Susan,_

_I regret to inform you of Edgar's death yesterday while defending the Hogwarts Express from the Black Queen's attack. Edgar died saving the lives of the First Years he always sought to protect each September...]_


	28. Dreams to Occlude

By the time Harry finished his last letter, it was the early afternoon. Each letter finished was taken away by house elves to be delivered by owl post. More than a few Aurors and professors stopped by too, providing anecdotes and helpful information about the deceased to personalize the letters. It was clear that everyone appreciated the accessibility and visibility of Merlin and his Knights taking the time to write such letters. Curious students were ushered away, but Harry caught more than one being told that it was condolence letter writing.

To him, it seemed rather odd that the students were told in such a frank manner, but he realized that with the war raging for so long, students here grew up faster than back in his world. Hogwarts was always a safe place except for the last year or so after Dumbledore's death. It was always sanctuary where the politics of the world outside rarely affected the education and focus of the students. Here, because this was both the bastion of the vestiges of the Ministry and a school, things were confronted in a frank manner that left no illusions as to what was done.

_Is that why you wanted me to write in such a public setting?_ He queried Merlin who merely pulsed an affirmative in their shared space.

Harry stretched, covering his mouth with the back of his hand as he yawned. He considered taking a nap, the emotional toll of the letters wearing on him, but he also knew that he could not in good conscience, disappear for a few hours. Everyone knew what happened now, the day after the Hogwarts Express' attack. He and his friends would be watched, studied and per Remus' words the previous night, they had taken the next step in the war. The cold war that had engulfed the Wizarding World was heating up again.

“Ron,” he muttered as he poked his best friend in the shoulder. “Come on,” he said as Ron blinked sleepily at him, having fallen into a stupor of sorts.

“Wha..?”

“Let's go see Professor Dumbledore,” he said. “Hermione and Ginny's already gone to talk to Marius Sadow, so I reckon they'd not be back for a while.”

“I reckon I'd go see to make sure he doesn't bewitch them,” Ron looked more awake as he glared at nothing in particular.

“Ron,” Harry sighed and shook his head. Ron only found out in the morning what made both Sadows darkly bewitching, almost unable to keep his eyes off of Marion when she sat down to offer some information about her former patrol partner Emmeline Daigger. It seemed the pretty witch with whom Harry had seen from time to time prior to her death was a Crouch Auror and one of the defenders of the Hogwarts Express.

Marion seemed used to the stares and it was Hermione who had asked the question regarding why it seemed only a select handful of people, both male and female, were able to hold a coherent conversation with her instead of acting like someone had cast a Confundus charm on them. Once the explanation of her Veela heritage had come to light, it had seemingly woken Ron. It seemed that there was an innate power that was broken over those who knew of her heritage. Marion explained that the bewitching part of a Veela heritage became less powerful as successive generations diluted the strength of the blood. The Auror said it was why the Dark Lord targeted the Veela enclaves in the first place, to ensure that such a power could either only be used by him or by no one at all.

Knowing what he knew about her and her hold over Barty Crouch Jr., it was perhaps one of the worst things he learned about the world and how it operated. Nothing was sacred. The status of blood was bad enough, but targeting certain species just because they could be a threat and wiping them out to the point where it was an absolute necessity was quite another.

“What,” Ron challenged as they stood up and headed out of the Great Hall. They nodded to a couple of passing Aurors as they navigated their way to the Headmaster's office. “You heard what Marion said. Knowledge gives us some power, but we'll still be attracted no matter what.”

“But it at least provides them with the knowledge of what he is,” Harry countered. “Marion's right. It's power, but its also useful knowledge.”

“For what? Understanding that they, me, we can fall under her spell, his spell, something? Be attracted to them without really understanding why?”

“Do you really think that Hermione's going to be like that?” Harry countered.

“No,” his best friend groused, crossing his arms across his chest as they headed up the stairs. “But-”

“Why are you so worried then?”

Ron looked away, but when he turned back it was not him who answered, but rather the gruff tones of Godric. “I don't like how he feels,” the Dreamer replied. “I echo my Keeper's sentiments.”

“How he feels?” Harry asked. He could feel Merlin's puzzlement at such an answer in his mind too.

“He reminds me too much of Nimue,” Godric growled out.

Harry felt Merlin's immediate bristling reaction and smoothly stepped to the side as the Dreamer took over. It felt a little odd, but at the same time it felt right. “Do not talk of Nimue in such a fashion Godric-”

“She was of siren blood! Even you knew that!”

“She was-”

“She trapped you. Simple as that. Ensnared you in your heart and mind, Merlin,” Godric sounded rather cross and while it was like watching through a lens of sorts even though it was his own eyes, he had never seen such a put-upon expression on Ron's face. It was clear Godric felt _very_ strongly about the whole Nimue debacle and so did Merlin.

He felt the Dreamer bristle again and mentally reached out. _Hey...you're supposed to be friends, allies..._ It seemed to do the trick as Merlin relinquished a little control. Guilt welled in the Dreamer. “I am sorry,” the Dreamer replied through his mouth before letting Harry back.

Something warred in Ron's expression that Harry recognized as Godric's own misgivings before Ron blinked and shook his head. “Blimey...” he muttered. “You really are stubborn aren't you? Can't even say it?”

“Uh...Ron,” Harry arched an eyebrow at his friend.

“Fine,” it seemed whatever internal conversation Ron was having with his Dreamer came to a conclusion before Ron looked at him. “I'm telling you straight because Godric here is too stubborn to not to and because I've learned my lesson from doubting you, Harry.”

Harry blinked, surprised by the admission, but also just as touched.

“Godric blames Merlin for abandoning him to his death. It happened after Merlin was trapped by Nimue. Nimue apparently taunted Godric before he was killed by Morgana and Nimue and his powers passed onto his Heir,” Ron glared at nothing in particular, but Harry had a feeling that it was directed more internally than anything else. A moment of silence passed as they both stood on the stairwell, having paused in their ascent after the two Dreamers got into their argument.

Ron broke the silence by blowing out a ragged sigh and rubbed his forehead. “Listen, mate, I'm going to find Hermione and Ginny. Godric's right. Something's not right about Marius Sadow, even Marion for what she told us. Mum told us a brief overview of the pureblood families of the Wizarding World when we were growing up and even I don't remember any family with the name of Sadow. Even Fleur didn't mention anything about Veelas with the last name of Sadow.”

“Ron, we shouldn't distrust them even if they aren't in our world,” Harry cautioned.

“Yeah, but neither should we trust them,” his friend countered.

Harry bit his lip. He wanted to trust Marion, after all he learned about her. A part of him yearned to tell Ron what he knew, to make him understand the hardships she went through and how she was working as their spy, but at the same time, he knew he had to be cautious. This world was vastly different, he knew that. And he could not so easily trust those he knew. It was why he was going to Dumbledore now. He hoped for answers, wanted to know why he couldn't innately trust this world's Headmaster like he did in his world.

“All right...find you at dinner?”

“Yeah, mate,” Ron reached out and clapped on him on his shoulder; that there was no hard feelings. “Maybe even ask Dumbledore what now? School's in session, but after yesterday...”

“Yeah...” Harry agreed. “See you later then.”

“Yeah,” Ron replied before turning back around and headed down the stairs.

Harry watched his friend for a moment, feeling the Dreamer swirl in him with a quiet sadness of sorts before turning and continuing his journey to the headmaster's office. _Are you all right?_ He asked. There was no answer save for what sounded like phantom sounds of someone's desperate pounding and muffled screams of denial. However, it disappeared just as quickly as Harry arrived at the gargoyle statue.

He stopped abruptly as he realized he did not know the password, even with the Headmaster's invitation. “Uh...” Harry looked up at the statue. “The Headmaster invited me today to talk with him-”

To his surprise, the stone statue nodded once before stepping to the side, allowing him to enter the spiral staircase. Harry did so, staring at the statue for a moment before it stepped back to close behind him. He never recalled any time except for probably the end of the war when he went up to the Headmaster's office to place the Deathly Hallows back where they belonged, that the statue had readily let him through. Most of the time it was by password only.

Putting the odd thought in the back of his mind, he ascended and heard voices talking before he knocked on the door. He could not quite discern who was speaking, and a small pulse of the liquid-like power of the Dreamer that he briefly grasped told him that the door was spelled. The voices stopped.

“Enter,” Dumbledore's was clear even in light of the spell. Harry let the Dreamer powers slip through his metaphoric fingers as he pushed the door open. He stepped in and saw that it was Snape who was had been talking with the Headmaster.

“Ah, Harry,” Dumbledore greeted him pleasantly, a twinkle in his eyes. He turned to Snape. “I see you are in on Mr. Potter's identity, judging by the lack of surprise?”

“Yes,” Snape replied succinctly. “It was explained to me before the attack on the Express. Lupin filled in some of the details.”

“Good, good,” Dumbledore seemed pleased before gesturing to Harry to come further in. “Severus, we can continue our talk later, if you will. I'm sure Lily is wanting your help in the dungeons to create more potions-”

“Wait,” Harry suddenly blurted out as he realized that this was perhaps the only time he would be able to get confirmation if this world's Snape was the same as his world's. He was also very mindful of the Black Queen's oblique warning and of what was not said when their minds were linked together last night. “Wait...sir,” he turned to Dumbledore. “In my world, Severus Snape was your spy. Is...is it safe to think the same?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry noted Snape had paused mid-step, a mildly curious expression on his face. Gone was the sneer and dark look he was used to receiving and somehow, it unsettled Harry to see such a placid expression on the Potions master's face. However, he focused on Dumbledore who was staring at him with a serious look.

“Harry,” Dumbledore began, folding his hands in front of him and resting it on his desk. “I believe we have talked at length about this-”

“Is he a spy for you, Professor?” Harry was not about to be deterred. He remembered the brief conversation – not a lengthy one that the Headmaster had stated – and it barely mentioned anything regarding Snape or any other spy for the Order or Ministry.

Dumbledore grew quiet for a moment before nodding once. “Yes.”

Harry let go a breath he did not realize. He absently nodded before choosing his next words carefully. “Sir, then I believe to send him back to the Dark Lord at this time would put Professor Snape in danger.”

This time there was a more visible reaction as one of Snape's eyebrows rose up in surprise. However, far from saying anything he stayed silent. It was Dumbledore again who spoke up.

“Harry, why would you say such a thing?”

Harry licked his lips, bolstered by the gentle nudging of confidence Merlin put forth. He grasped onto that confidence, letting it fill him. “Sir, I...have been withholding information from you. I...I've been having visions-”

“Harry when we last talked about this, I had counseled you to seek out Severus for Occulumency lessons-”

“I know, Professor, I know,” Harry was greatly reminded of the one and only time he talked to Dumbledore about his vision, especially right after Cardiff. “I...haven't been able to find the time.” He trailed off lamely. The excuse sounded so hollow in his ears, an excuse that when he was student would have warranted perhaps a 'do better', but now, a full grown adult who was thrust into this world's war and the Heir to the Dreamer of Hopes – it sounded even more lame.

“I had another one,” he instead plowed on. “The Black Queen made a warning that sounded like he knew who Snape really was; whom he was spying for. I...” he glanced briefly at Snape. “I...don't think it's safe for you to go back there, sir...”

Something flickered in Snape's dark eyes, but the man's expression stayed the same. It was only a loud sigh from Dumbledore that broke the moment and both turned to see the Minister pursing his lips together as if coming to a heavy decision. “Severus,” Dumbledore's tone was soft, but firm. “Please leave for now. Mr. Potter and I have many things to discuss. I will need some time to think on this new information in light of what our Heir has discerned from his counterpart.”

Snape nodded once before sweeping his cloak around him and headed out. As soon as the door closed, the latch locked in decisive clacking sound and Fawkes gave a soft trill from his perch. Harry glanced at the phoenix, wondering what made it loyal to James instead of Dumbledore and what it would discern from this meeting that his father may find out later.

“Harry, please sit,” Dumbledore gestured for him to take a seat in front of the desk and Harry did so.

The Minister sighed, looking for a moment, older than Harry would have thought possible. “I am glad you are putting your connection to the Black Queen to use in obtaining such information for us, but I must caution you, because he is Heir to Fears-”

“I...didn't come by this voluntarily, Professor,” Harry replied. “He forced himself into my mind...he said, in his own words, it was the only way he could figure it out when my guard was down or something like that. Needed some emotional distress in order to do that...”

“And this is also why I wished for you to take Occulumency lessons, Harry. Preferably with Professor Snape, as he is one of the best. These lessons are not to occlude your counterpart's access to your mind. No, I believe that it is part of whatever process you have decided to align this world's counterparts with your friends' own, but it is to at least be able to discern the truth in such a world.”

Harry was confused. “What...?”

“I gave some thought to our last conversations and it was the conclusion I came up with, especially in light of Mr. Longbottom's return to your world and our world's Neville Longbottom becoming the Dreamer of Justice. I happened to ask him of his experiences, especially those relating to your world's Neville and he replied in kind regarding such shared visions. But they only occurred once the transfer was completed. Have any of your friends experienced such visions with their counterparts?”

“Not that I know of,” Harry replied. Truth be told, he never asked Ron, Hermione or Ginny.

“Hmm...perhaps it is because they have Awakened...”

“Ron's still not the Dreamer of Courage, unless he Awakened?”

“No, no,” Dumbledore replied. “He has not. I would have felt it. No matter. The real matter at hand is that I had asked you to seek out Occulmency lessons in order to arm you better against the falsehoods that may be said in these visions you've shared. You would be able to protect yourself, but also discern the truth. That is where in lies the greatest power you share with the Black Queen.”

“But-”

“But it was only my wish and hope, as now I see it may have very well alerted the Black Queen to any particular training you may have had. In this case, it seems your conversation was quite organic, was it?”

“...I suppose,” Harry was a little confused by the meandering, but pointed looks the Minister was giving him. This was far more insight that he had ever gotten with his world's Dumbledore and somehow, it scared him a little. He realized he was too used to his world's Dumbledore keeping secrets from him, ostensibly trying to protect him, to not burden him, but this world's Dumbledore seemed to outright revel in the planning, ensuring that he knew the plan and the motive behind such plans.

“I will instruct Severus to teach you Occulumency as the school year has properly started and his services for the Dark Lord will be limited at this point,” Dumbledore tented his fingers together. “I, however, appreciate your candor in this matter regarding Severus' allegiances. It is troubling to know that the Black Queen may have or have already discerned the intentions of my spy.”

“He was one in my world,” Harry offered. “And...I...” he hesitated before a second before plunging on. He wanted everyone to know how much Snape sacrificed when he confronted Voldemort. To let him know that he was already beaten a long time ago. “He loved my Mum and became one of your greatest allies. It wasn't easy for him, but he did it because he felt so much guilt towards what happened to my Mum. I...never told him that I appreciated what he sacrificed for me at times. We...never got along, but maybe we should have.”

“Ah...” the light twinkle was back in Dumbledore's eyes and his expression softened. “I know it is hard for you to see things in this world that can explore the possibilities of what could have happened in yours.” He rested his hands on his desk. “Perhaps it was selfish of me to ask you to stay and help, but I encourage you to cultivate those relationships. You are my Heir. You give them a renewed Hope. I can give them only so much, but perhaps you can give them and yourself a measure of peace that they have all longed for.”

Harry nodded. “I'll try.”

“Good,” Dumbledore replied as he sat back. “I only ask that you please keep me informed. This knowledge regarding the Black Queen and his discerning of Severus' allegiances troubles me greatly. I must think on it. He is, as I presume in your world, one of my greatest assets. He has both the ear of the Dark Lord and of the Black King. A rare feat for someone of his stature. But the Dark Lord is perhaps of a different mind than the Black King.”

“Professor-er, Minister,” Harry realized he had been calling Dumbledore by a more informal title than his position.

“Either is fine for you, my boy,” Dumbledore replied, “I understand old habits are hard to break.”

“Thank you,” Harry replied. “Sir, I know I've expressed my concern to you about Crouch Jr. and Peter Pettigrew-”

“And I have questioned them,” Dumbledore interrupted smoothly. “While I do believe your version of events, here, I must say that both have shown nothing of the sort to warrant the scrutiny nor the feeling of betrayal that they have enabled in your world, Harry.”

The Dreamer within him shifted uneasily at the words. A silent query towards Merlin produced nothing in reply except for the same uneasy feeling. Harry wondered if it was something that Dumbledore said that was perhaps reminding the Dreamer of something regarding the current Dreamer of Hopes that sat in front of them. He understood it was a sensitive topic for Merlin to be addressing, but a part of Harry desperately wished to know what made him so quiet towards his former Keeper.

“Sir-”

“However, I have asked Auror Moody to relocate Mr. Pettigrew on a long-term assignment if possible. As such, he was sent just days ago ostensibly for scouting purposes the front lines we have held in Cardiff and other small strongholds,” Dumbledore continued. A small expectant smile was on his face and Harry nodded gratefully.

“Unfortunately, Auror Crouch Jr. is needed here. As such, it would make it easier for me to keep an eye on him,” the minister said. “I do hope this eases your fears, Harry. We must not let the enemy win.”

Harry frowned. “I...I don't fear them, sir, I...worry what they may do, or what they might have done.”

“Nonetheless, your worry could turn to fear and we cannot have that happening to you now, can we? You are the Littlest of the Dreamers. You are my Heir and from the bravery you showed yesterday defending the Express, we could not have chosen a better champion. I know it is a tough road ahead of you. I know you have sacrificed a chance to return to your world. I will do everything I can to help, and please know that you are always welcomed here to talk any time. I wish to help you, to guide you.”

Harry grimaced. The words sounded so full of hope that he did not want to say anything to dissuade the headmaster from his notions. Instead, he silently nodded again. He could sense the dismissal in Dumbledore's words and stood up.

But a fleeting thought occurred to him. “Minister...” he started, looking up at the serious eyes that twinkled gently. “I wanted you to know that the letters to those that died yesterday are finished. I was hoping...maybe if the families live at Hogsmeade or even nearby, I could visit them?”

The twinkle died in Dumbledore's eyes but he nodded solemnly. “Yes, I will see to the arrangements. You are a brave boy, Harry. Far braver than I could imagine to take on such burdens and not be pained by it.”

Harry nodded, trying to not his disquiet show on his face. Was that what he saw last night between his father and Dumbledore? The impact of a magical contract that supposedly his father could not bear and instead was in pain from it? It certainly didn't look like it and though he wanted to ask, he could feel a tendril of caution exuding from the Dreamer within him. Somehow, he knew that to ask and confirm what happened was treading into dangerous territory.

“I-I will leave you to it then, sir. Thank you,” he bowed his head a little and started to head out.

“I will keep what you have told me about Severus and the Black Queen in mind, Harry. Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. And please, all you need is to let the gargoyle know you wish to visit and he will let you in without the password,” Dumbledore replied. Harry nodded again and turned and left, closing the door behind him.

He did not know why, but he suddenly moved faster down the stairs and by the time he stood outside of the gargoyle, he felt lighter, almost as if an oppressive presence that had just been hovering right at the edges of his consciousness had left. Oddly enough, the oppressiveness did not feel wrong nor was it particularly dangerous. It just felt...smothering. Like he wanted to believe so badly that it almost consumed him just now.

He shook his head and blew out a quick breath as he looked back at the gargoyle. It certainly was a rather different conversation he was used to having with Dumbledore. But he also wondered if it was because he was perhaps starting to discern the powers of the Dreamers in this world and thus became more sensitive towards it? Perhaps he was overthinking it...

“Merlin.” Even before Moody finished greeting him, Harry immediately felt the glamour cast upon himself thrown up by the Dreamer.

“Auror Moody,” he felt his voice pitch a little more differently and sent a mental note of thanks to the Dreamer.

“Good work on the letters,” the Auror hobbled up to him, thumping his gnarled large stick upon the stonework. “Sent them out by owl.”

“I asked the Minister if I could visit the families that live near by,” Harry said, “he said he would arrange it.”

The eyebrow above Moody's magical eye lifted in surprise. “Good of you, generous,” he replied, a hint of pride in his voice. “You remind me of one of my former apprentices. She always had a good head on her shoulders, even though that head sometimes turned into different shapes and colors. Responsible.”

“Tonks?” Harry smiled a little as he remembered that Tonks was Moody's apprentice when she joined the Aurors.

“Know her?”

“Uh,” Harry realized that he had never seen Tonks at Hogwarts in the past few months since he arrived. “Y-Yes...Professor Lupin is married to her...”

“Staying with her mum Andromeda while keeping their child in hiding. He's a valuable target. The son of a Dreamer. Possibly destined somewhere down the line to become an Heir if you want to believe the nonsense about Dreamer powers being hereditary.”

“They are?” Harry never heard of that theory. He wondered if Hermione or Ginny would find out from Marius Sadow.

Moody snorted, his magical eye rolling around in its socket before it focused back on him. Not more than once, Harry wondered if the magical eye could clearly see through the glamour that Merlin cast upon him to hide his identity. “Bunch of rubbish when it's clear Professor Potter was formerly Faith. But still a high value target if the other side is inclined to try to capture Professor Lupin.”

“I remembered there was the story that someone had tried-”

“-At a Founder's Ball,” Moody replied, “they were idiots. The Ball is clearly neutral ground, the Weavers say so, or at least that's what was claimed.” He shrugged. “Who knows at this point. Black Queen decided to ruin this year's and make a right mess of things.”

“I'm going to save him,” Harry stared up at Moody's craggy face.

The older Auror snorted again before gesturing with a rough hand for them to walk and stumped away. Harry followed.

“The question you have to ask, _Merlin_ ,” Moody's emphasis of the name made him really wonder if the magical eye could see through the glamour. “Is he really worth saving?”

“Everyone is,” Harry stubbornly reiterated. “I tried with Morgana,” he was about to say with Voldemort, but he could feel Merlin influencing his words. The Dreamer mentally chided him for his slip. “Even she deserved to have pity and be saved after all she did.”

“Including what she did to your friends? To Arthur? Lady Selwyn? Godric? Rowena? Even after what she did to Salazar?”

“Those events have not happened yet,” Harry could feel Merlin's stubborn mulish reply in his voice.

“And yet you say you have tried with Morgana already,” Moody countered and Harry froze as did the Dreamer in his mind.

A hundred of Uncle Vernon's curses flew through his mind as he realized the neatly worded trap Moody had ensnared them in. He opened his mouth, but the Auror beat him to it and thumped his walking cane down with an ominous sound as they stopped.

“You don't get to my position without knowing a few things, _Merlin_ ,” the Auror muttered quietly, staring at him with both eyes. “I know who you are. Who you really are.”

Harry gritted his teeth, his hand diving into his robes to draw his wand, but Moody held up his stick in a warning manner. “I wouldn't. For one thing, we are being watched,” the magical eye roamed around in its socket, flipping to whites and back to him. “The other, is that if I thought you a danger, if James thought you a danger, you'd be dead three months ago. The fact that James, my second-in-command, has decided to trust you, tells me that you aren't _him_. You may look like him and I don't want to know the circumstances of why you _look_ like him, nor why your friends look like certain people that just graduated, but there is that measure of trust. And the one thing I do know is that trust is a commodity here. More rare than Hopes for that matter.”

Harry's brows knitted together at the explanation. He was about to relax his grip on his wand since it looked like Moody was not about to hex him, but the Auror gave him a pointed look. “Constant vigiliance, Merlin,” the Auror muttered gruffly. “Act like we had a fight and you're leaving in a huff. They are watching.”

Harry finally understood who the mysterious 'they' Moody was referring to. Crouch's Aurors. He blinked once, hoping that the Auror understood his message and received a wink in return before Harry turned on his heel and left in a hurry, his hand still in the robes gripping his wand. However as he walked away, he realized he did not know where to go. The logical thing was to seek his friends out and judging by Ron's words, they were probably at Marius Sadow's offices or wherever he was among the Hogwarts grounds.

He knew he could stop and ask, but as he grasped onto the liquid-like powers of the Dreamer and pulsed it out, he could sense that there were eyes on him. He could not discern whom they belonged to, but it was clear that they witnessed what happened and wanted to see how he would react. Sirius and Lupin's words about potential retaliation echoed in Harry's mind. Those he could feel watching him did not seem malicious in their intent, but he supposed in light of yesterday's actions, it could not be helped. It felt almost like his 5th and 6th years, but instead of a classroom of curious students, these were people who lived here, whose only sanctuary was Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. These were the people who lived and breathed the war.

Harry let the liquid-like droplets of power slip through his metaphoric fingers as he decided on his course of action. If they wanted to observe him, then he was fine with that. He had endured enough scrutiny to ignore most of the stares, the whispers. He would do what needed to be done and at this moment, it was not to find his friends at the moment, but to ensure that the safety and care of those injured came first.

He started walking to the Hospital Wing and arrived in short order. Entering the quiet hall, he saw several nurses examining the injured. Madam Pomfrey appeared a few seconds later from one of the backrooms, followed by the last person Harry expected to actually see in such a short time, Snape. Their heads were close together, talking quietly before both seemed to notice his presence and Snape finished his conversation with the head mediwitch with a curt nod. The Potions professor strode towards him, Pomfrey briefly giving Harry a smile before she turned to help one of the other nurses.

“Merlin,” the name fell so smoothly out of Snape's mouth that Harry could briefly imagine him saying it in a classroom full of students at the same time.

“Professor,” he greeted respectfully.

“Do you have a moment to talk?”

Harry blinked, thrown off by the question. It was not what he expected, having been so used to the Snape of his world snidely demanding his time or ordering him to follow. A mental nudge from the Dreamer told him he had yet to answer and he bobbled his head up and down rather mechanically. “Of course.”

“Then please, this way,” Snape gestured with unerring politeness for him to leave the Hospital Wing with him.

Harry complied, trying to regain some measure of equilibrium at the fact that _Snape_ of all people was being utterly polite. Even with the knowledge of how much the man sacrificed as a spy for Dumbledore, he still could not reconcile the fact that this world's Snape was rather...civil. He was so used to the way his world's Snape reacted to himself as James Potter's son, that he expected the same treatment. He wondered if perhaps his world's Snape had married Lily Evans, would things have been different? For one thing, he would not be alive, but even if he was, would they have been like this?

Harry thought they were to walk the corridors of Hogwarts, but Snape suddenly flicked a nearby door open and slipped into it. He followed, and they wound through a series of narrow corridors and dimly lit stairs. Dust and cobwebs littered the area, tickling the back of Harry's nose before he muffled a sneeze into his sleeve.

“I have been reliably informed that you accepted a magical contract regarding the deaths of those who died yesterday on the Express. The scrutiny you face now will be the face of the war and there are attempts to mitigate some of the retaliation you may face now that the perception of the war has escalated,” Snape started conversationally.

Harry glanced at the back of the man's head, not realizing that he had grown almost as tall as the other man. It was disconcerting as the last time he was truly face to face with Snape before his flight from the school, was when Dumbledore was killed. He had been shorter then, still growing.

He expected a offhand comment regarding how stupid it was to interrupt the magical contract, but when nothing else came forth, Harry frowned.

“I do not expect your thanks,” Snape suddenly said.

Harry could not help the small bark of laughter that emerged from his lips. There was that biting sarcasm and animosity that he remembered. “Thanks,” he replied. The Potions professor turned back with an arched look at him.

“In my world, you and I did not get along,” Harry felt compelled to explain. “I...have been trying to reconcile that...”

“Ah,” was the reply. Again, Harry expected perhaps another biting remark, but to his surprise, none was forthcoming as they emerged from the narrow winding passage to a very familiar room. It was the staff room and it was empty.

“We are free from prying eyes in here,” Snape announced as he pointed his wand at the doors in the room. He muttered something under his breath, but far from a flash or anything that emerged from his wand tip, Harry instead, felt a sudden unsettled feeling wash through him. He could feel something oddly familiar that exuded from Snape before he lifted his wand and the feeling disappeared. The Dreamer shifted uneasily in his mind.

“What was that?”

“To prevent disturbances for the next hour or so,” the Potions master replied. “Auror Potter has asked that you'd be taught Occulumency as did the Minister. While I am disinclined to listen to Auror Potter, his point stands and I am more obligated to listen to the Minister's...suggestion.”

Harry frowned as he watched Snape pull up a long-backed squashy chair and sit in it. A brief gesture of his hand and another chair waddled up across from him. It was obvious that Snape expected him to sit in it and Harry did so.

“Professor...sir,” Harry began, hunching forward, “I've...had training, but...it didn't take well.”

One eyebrow rose, but other than that, Snape stayed silent. Harry's frown deepened. He felt obligated to let this world's Snape know at least some of the details before he even considered teaching him.

“In my world, you and I did not have a good relationship. You saw me as my father did, I saw you as a hateful old man. I eventually learned that you loved my mother and defected from Voldemort's ranks. But when she died-” Harry's words hitched in his mouth as he saw Snape lean forward just a little at his words. “When she died trying to protect me back when I was just a baby, you became Dumbledore's spy. I...didn't know this, but you took steps to protect me during my years at Hogwarts. Except we just never got along. I...wish we did...”

“I take it I am dead in your world?” Snape asked, his gaze sharp and icily calm.

“Yeah,” Harry replied, “Voldemort had you executed when he thought you were the owner of a great weapon.” He did not know why he did not say anything about the Elder Wand or the Deathly Hallows considering he had a feeling that Snape would find out soon enough if he did Legilimens into his mind.

Snape nodded, his sharp look softening as he glanced at nothing in particular. He rubbed his chin with his hand for a moment before looking back at him. “I appreciate your candor and I take it I was your teacher in Occulumency in your world?”

“Attempted to. It was more like you just Legilimens into my mind and shouted at me to not feel emotion or block it out,” Harry shrugged. “To be honest, I have no idea if you were successful or not. All I know is that the one and only time I blocked you, it was with the Protego spell.”

“A physical spell?”

Harry nodded and was about to verbally agree before he picked up on Snape's words. “It can be non-physical?”

The Potions master inclined his head.

“Oh.” Harry sat back, dumbfounded. It would certainly explain how he managed to block and reflect the Legilimens spell back onto Snape. Besides being a physical spell, he must have somehow manifested it into a mental equivalent.

Snape tilted his head. “Surely you knew this when you threw the Black Queen out of your mindscape?”

“How do you know about that?” Harry asked. He was fairly certain Snape did not return until this very morning or perhaps during noon time, judging by the interruption of the meeting between himself and Dumbledore.

“The Dark Lord was clear in his displeasure at the Black Queen's failure,” Snape's words were quiet, measured. If anything, he sat up straighter and stared at Harry with a sharp look.

“Volde-no...Grindelwald?” Harry asked.

“Yes.”

Harry swallowed heavily as he sat back in his chair. His thoughts became troubled as he realized the implications of Snape's words. The motions his counterpart made in the dreamscape suddenly – and horribly – made sense. The Black Queen _was_ in pain and Harry could only guess that more than likely the Cruciatus curse was used on him while he was in the dreamscape. How his counterpart was able to force such a connection and keep it all the way until he was thrown out-

No... Harry swallowed hard again, wanting nothing more than to wet the sudden dryness in his throat at the horrifying implications of what he had done to his counterpart. They had been in _his_ head, and the Black Queen said that it had been hard to force a connection, to even maintain it. The excuse of letting the Dreamer of Fears fight the Dreamer of Hopes manifestations was perhaps just an excuse. But if anything, it seemed like the Black Queen was attempting to find some kind of _mental_ sanctuary, to escape from the pain, and by doing that, let his status as Heir to Fears latch onto the one real chance of having a fight with Hopes, to _distract_ Grindelwald from the torture he was inflicting in the physical world by hiding in Harry's mind.

And Harry kicked him out without a second thought. Using the same spell he had cast upon the Snape of his world to reverse the Legilimens.

Harry chewed his lower lip and looked up at Snape. He did not have to demand proof; it was written all over the mild surprise on the Potions master's face. “How is he?” the words tumbled out of his mouth.

Both of Snape's eyebrows rose up in surprise. “Compassion is not what I was expecting from you, Mr. Potter.”

“I'm not the Black Queen,” Harry countered.

Snape snorted quietly and leaned back in his chair. “No you are certainly not. Compassion for the enemy, that is a rare thing. And certainly distinguishes you from your counterpart.” He sighed quietly. “I must confess that I had my reservations when Auror Potter put forth the notion of training you in Occlumency. And your previous words leading up to this subject did enhance my doubts. Your animosity towards my counterpart in your world certainly did cast a new light and I perhaps might have come to some wrong conclusion. But this is the second time today you have shown a measure of compassion not seen except in the rare few.”

Harry's brows crinkled as he took in Snape's words. He still could not quite believe such civility was from the Potions master, but it seemed the words had some power behind it. The Dreamer within him still stirred uneasily, but Harry wondered if it was a magnification of his own uneasiness with the fact that _Snape_ of all people was civil in this world. That there was no shared history; that perhaps any previous animosity towards James Potter was dampened by so much years of war and perhaps because Lily Potter was Snape's lover.

“Second time?”

“You are very unlike the Minister regarding the methods of espionage; unlike Auror Potter too. It seems you understand its methods and its uses, yet you care more for the spy than for the information gathers. I would call it naivety considering we have spies from the Dark Lord in these grounds, but I sense that is because of our shared history in your world.”

“You loved my Mum,” Harry replied. “You didn't like doing the things you did, even as Dumbledore's spy, but you did it because you wanted to atone for what happened to my Mum.”

Snape nodded absently. “I still love Lily,” he murmured and there was a power behind those words. “After everything...I still love her.”

Harry pressed his lips together, falling silent. It was one thing to hear it in the pensieve from the memories Snape passed onto him and know that his mother was already dead. But in the flesh...it prickled goosebumps in him. There was something powerful, possessive in the words Snape spoke. Perhaps it was finally hearing that, to truly make him understand the actions his father took to protect his mother, driving her into Snape's welcoming arms. And Snape himself reciprocating the love, the affection.

The silence stretched between them before Snape suddenly drew his wand out and waved it at the doors. With a quiet popping sound, whatever spellwork was on it disappeared and the disquieting sensation that he felt from Merlin faded. Harry silently queried the Dreamer, but Merlin did not say anything.

“I cannot teach you,” Snape said.

“Won't or can't?” Harry asked, puzzled by the sudden turn of events.

“I won't,” the Potions master looked at him, a neutral expression on his face. “I have my reasons, but please do not ask. I'll let Auror Potter know of the situation and suggest that he teaches you himself. You are in ways, his son and I will not deny him that opportunity.”

Harry blinked, surprised. If for the lack of malice in the words just spoken, it would have sounded something straight out of his world's Snape's mouth. However, because it was so sincere and sounded rather genuine, he was rather surprised by it. Yet a part of him yearned to know why this time around, Snape would not teach him just after a brief conversation. He didn't peek into the man's mind, just told him the truth. Was there something he had said that made Snape turn him away again?

Something of his turmoil must have shown on his face as Snape looked at him with a simple look. “You are a powerful and compassionate wizard, Mr. Potter. I do wish to teach you, but I cannot and will not.”

“But-”

“I am sorry,” Snape's words were final and he stood up, gesturing with a hand for Harry to clearly leave.

Harry bit his lip as he stood up. He stared at Snape, trying to grasp the slippery Dreamer powers within him, but they seemingly eluded his efforts. He wanted to see, wanted to pulse the aura and intention of why Snape was refusing to teach him again. But after several seconds of a futile effort, he gave up. “Thank you, at least for letting me know,” he replied politely. Brushing past the man, he was about to open the door when Snape spoke up.

“The last I saw, the Black Queen was recuperating. He was tortured for his failure in the attack on the Hogwarts Express with not only the Cruciatus curse, but physical methods as well. Perhaps, there is the consolation that when he sought out a sanctuary to ease his pain, you gave him that small measure of comfort.”

Harry grimaced as he silently opened the door and left. He thought he might have understood this world's Severus Snape, but it seemed the man was more mysterious than the one in his world. As he left to find his friends, he did not realize that there was one particular name Snape did not mention regarding his refusal in Occlumency training – Dumbledore.

* * *

“Was this a test?”

“Good to see you too. Barging into an injured man's flat is a great way to say you're back from groveling at the Dark Lord's feet.”

“Was. This. A. Test.”

There was a loud sigh followed by a grunt of an attempt to sit up. “Yes. I had to know. You said you had no Heir, but I had to know.”

“Why?”

“Because each one was associated-”

“I did it because of the hope of love, not out of fear of not having it. You should know that after what you did.”

“I know.”

“Was this a test?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“To see if your previous statement was still true. That it was of hope and not of fear.”

The silence stretched.

“I refused, you know. Because I couldn't bear it. The temptation... Because I wanted to stay true; stay true to hope and not fear.”

“I'm sorry...”

“No you're not.”

“No, I'm not.”

“I'll still tell _him_ that I am teaching him, but I suggested you as his teacher.”

There was a quiet snort followed by a small hiss of pain. “I am not that good-”

“I beg to differ considering all things.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“Don't let it get to your head. This is mutually beneficial. You forget what I am.”

“You would not be the first one in our history to defect.”

“All of this better be worth what Ignotus was planning.”

“I hope so.”

“Lie back down. You're making me sick seeing you like that. Black will think that I tortured you for the fun of it with potions once he's done with Lupin's classes for the day. Your little attack dog, Marion would probably cut me up if she had the chance.”

There was a grunt, followed by a soft sigh of relief. A snort of disapproval filled the air.

“How long do you think you can hold against him?”

“As long as I have to.”

“You're lucky at what Potter did.”

“I know...”

“Don't die on us yet you cloven-hooved prat. You're the one who started all this and brought us into it. See it to the end or else I'll make sure your ghost haunts Hogwarts.”

“I still hate you.”

“The feeling's mutual.”


	29. The First Dream

_The First Dream..._

He pounded frantically at the walls. His knuckles were raw and hurt each time he met rock, leaving streaks of red in stark contrast to the off-white of the crystals that trapped him.

“No!” he screamed for the umpteenth time. “No, no, no, no!” Tears tracked down his face as he stared out. “Please!” he begged. “Please let me out! _Please!_ I'm begging you!” His breath hitched and a sob escaped it as he slid down to the ground again. “Please,” he flung a fist at the solid crystal, but there was no effort behind it.

“...Nimue,” he whispered as he stared at the white wall before him. One would have thought there was nothing that could be seen, but Merlin saw everything. “Please let me out...please don't...please don't leave me here...”

“ _Where is he?!” Godric held his wand aloft and blocked several spells that were thrown at them. “Where is that prat Merlin! I told him-”_

“ _I don't know,” Rowena held her hands aloft, keeping the shield overhead. “But we're in this now and we can't stop!”_

_Godric cursed silently before gesturing with a broad hand. “Come on! Now is our chance!”_

_The soldiers under their command shouted their encouragement as they leap from the rocks they had been hiding behind and surged forward. The screams of the enemy, Faydes, Hellhounds and all sorts of dark creatures echoed against the roar of Godric and their forces._

“ _Rowena, now!”_

_The shield suddenly disappeared as Godric pointed his wand aloft at the horde charging at them. “Coronum Maxima!” he shouted. The spell flew from his wand, amplified by the powers of Wisdom and exploded against the horde of dark creatures like a bright white light._

_Godric threw up a hand to shield his own eyes from the bright explosion. Rowena splayed her hands out to shield the charging soldiers' eyes. They bellowed and charged into the void left behind by the disintegration of the front line of creatures. Swords, pikes and halberds held aloft, they slammed into the rest, cutting them apart in their momentary disorientation. Flechettes of arrows flew, archers pinning even more down to be cut by their compatriots..._

Merlin watched, wide-eyed with tears tracking down his face as he saw his two friends battle. Their actions were measured, but he could tell it was starting to become desperate. It should have been a route, if he had been there. They were such a small number against such a great horde. The soldiers were fighting so valiantly in their defense of Ealdor. Morgana's dark army was starting to overrun the lands, encroaching slowly to Camelot. It had been a magical stronghold until Nimue stole his secrets and slipped away, trapping him here.

He felt like a fool. Yet he still yearned for her. She held him dear and he held her dear to his heart. He wanted it to be not true, that what she had stolen from him was only a trick. But as he felt the walls of crystalline around him, he knew he had been terribly deceived.

“Run!” he shouted, but his hoarse voice only echoed for himself. “Leave the focal point! We can build another one!”

Yet as he watched, he knew his friends would defend the point to the last. That if Ealdor was leveled, then it would be the beginning of the end of Camelot and its allies. And he had given Nimue its location.

_Godric battled for his life as he shot spell after spell. He risked a quick look to see Rowena, dark-haired whirling as she splayed her hands out, amplifying the spells he cast, while building barriers to protect others. More than once, he wished Selwyn was here, but she was defending the Glaive from an attack by Mab and Morgana._

_Never did they expect Ealdor to be under such a ferocious attack. The focal points they had built to keep Camelot and its allies safe was supposed to be a secret among the five-no, four of them after Salazar's turn and betrayal. What had happened?_

_However, he did not let any of his internal misgivings show as he concentrated and held his hand aloft. He had to give courage, had to bolster the defenders spirits-_

“ _Godric! Watch out!” Rowena's shout came too late as he felt a stabbing pain to his side._

_He turned in time to see the remnants of a spell cast towards him and immediately conjured a shield. “Nimue.” He recognized the witch. What was she doing here and why was the remnants of a spell pointed at him emanating from her fingers?_

“ _Godric,” she spat._

“ _Where's Merlin!?” he shouted as he dodged another attack from her. “Stop it Nimue!” he shouted again as she fired several fireballs and he conjured a wave of water to douse them. “This is not one of your games!” He never understood why Merlin fell head over heels in love with the witch. She was constantly playing ill-timed pranks, or spellwork on them. Annoying them from time to time. He was always glad to be rid of her whenever Merlin decided to take her with him on one of his own adventures. He presence grated on him._

“ _No it is not,” her once impish voice was now heavy with ripples of power that instantly made Godric wary._

_He stepped to the side, focusing almost all of his sense on her. He could hear the sounds of battle behind him, but the sudden danger that Nimue exuded..._

“ _When did you become a Dreamer?” he demanded. Rowena's shouts of spells echoed around them. Screams of dead beings reverberated the air, yet Godric watched the nymph woman carefully._

“ _I always was,” her voice was just a whisper, but Godric heard it all the same as if she was speaking next to his ear. “Merlin sends his love,” she said and before Godric could react, he suddenly felt his senses enveloped in an overwhelming wave of despair._

_It was as if someone had smothered every single light in him and he flailed around, trying not to drown in the feeling as it covered his mind, his eyes, even his mouth and nose. He breathed it and smelled in the familiar scent of his friend, could hear the denials and screams to let him go._

_He caught a glimpse of the blue eyes trapped behind blood-streaked crystals-_

_And Godric shouted. The illusion shattered as he pushed out with a mighty roar of righteous, furious anger. “YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!” he shouted as he blasted a wave of power towards Nimue. “REDUCTO!” he pointed his wand straight at her._

_She was blasted from her feet, but even before she tumbled from the rocks, he knew it was too late and released the spellwork from his wand, transforming it into his sword._

_He met the cleaving blow of Morgana le Faye who had suddenly appeared to take her place. The sorceress' eyes were alight with an inhuman madness as she cackled and swung the blade. Clemant met Godric's fabled Lyonheart with red sparks flying into the sky._

“NO!” Merlin screamed as he realized the brutality of the trap that had been laid before him. He watched, despair eating at him as Morgana had appeared on the battlefield. “No!” he shouted again, pounding his raw fists against the sharp crystals. He knew it was futile, but he had to try something, anything. He had pushed, pulsed, and sent waves after waves of his power towards Godric, trying to frantically support him, but the bond that was before them was frayed, broken. Savagely so in the tattered remnants when he was trapped in here.

Nimue's deception and possessiveness was realized as he understood at once what was at stake. Morgana meant to kill Godric and all he could do was watch, helpless. He could see each blow Godric blocked, each strike Morgana swung just seconds before it happened.

And knew he had doomed his friend, his brother to his death.

“No,” he weakly whispered as he saw Godric fight, his sword flashing this way and that as he shuffled across the battlefield. Rowena was desperately trying to keep the dark creatures at bay, trying to keep the hope of the defenders aloft, but he could tell she was faltering.

The despair smothering Godric was like a heavy blanket, written across his face and Merlin could see the betrayal, the slow inevitable knowledge of what his friend realized about his fate. “...No...” he whispered, his voice cracking against the vision before his eyes. “Please...no...”

It was a fierce fight, but even the strongest of fighters, the most skill bladesman of one Dreamer versus two targeted Dreamer attacks, was no match. And Merlin felt a single tear roll down his face as he spotted the moment where Nimue reappeared, wrapped in the emotions that she coveted so badly, and slipped her dagger in back of Godric, right in between his shoulder blades.

She laughed, throwing her head back and Merlin could imagine the joyous sound she made. He loved it, once loved it, but now, watched as it was twisted, turned for the Sins to use and wondered _why_... Why did she do it?

Godric fell, Lyonheart slipping through his fingers as he gasped, staring up at the sky as Morgana cackled before him. Clement dripped with his blood, cuts made in the fierce fight his friend had put up. “No...brother, no...” Merlin murmured, curled in on himself as he placed a raw hand against the sharp crystal. The filament cut into his palm, but he felt no more pain. He could not.

The pain was in his heart, driving deep into him.

“The pain will never go away,” Harry murmured as he stepped into the dreamscape, kneeling down next to Merlin. He could feel the man's pain as he reached out and gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I...can't,” Merlin's voice hiccuped with sorrow.

“But it will eventually fade,” Harry replied.

“What if I don't want it to?”

“Then understand it. Understand why the pain hurts.”

“ _I killed Sirius Black!” Bellatrix's voice taunted Harry in the corridors as she fled the Ministry_.

“Would you have forgiven her?”

“No,” Harry replied. “But I could not kill her. There was always that hope that one could be turned from their ways...”

“Even if its my fault?”

“ _Will you teach me?”_

_Her voice was impish as was her smile and Merlin found himself drawn to her. She was beautiful as the Lake she was born from. Nimue lifted a hand towards him and he grasped it, pulling her towards him. She laughed, crystal, clear, high, a pleasant music in his ears. She was the first woman he ever loved and one he sought to protect from Morgana and Mab._

“ _I will,” he replied._

“You taught her. It was not your fault...”

“But Godric-”

“You held the hope that she would not twist your teachings. As long as you hold that, there is always hope...and it is never a failure.”

“Even if you do not save those you love?”

“Fate is not prophesied even if it seems to be that way...”

“ _Part of Lord Voldemort lives inside Harry, and it is that which gives him the power of speech with snakes, and a connection with Lord Voldemort's mind that he has never understood. And while that fragment of soul, unmissed by Voldemort, remains attached to and protected by Harry, Lord Voldemort cannot die.”_

_Harry seemed to be watching the two men from one end of a long tunnel, they were so far away from him, their voices echoing strangely in his ears._

“ _So the boy...the boy must die?” asked Snape quite calmly._

“ _And Voldemort himself must do it, Severus. That is essential.”_

_Another long silence. Then Snape said, “I thought...all these years...that we were protecting him for her. For Lily.”_

“ _We have protected him because it has been essential to teach him, to raise him, to let him try his strength,” said Dumbledore, his eyes still tight shut. “Meanwhile, the connection between them grows ever stronger, a parasitic growth: Sometimes I have thought he suspects it himself. If I know him, he will have arranged matters so that when he does set out to meet his death, it will truly mean the end of Voldemort.”_

“I let him die...I made it happen...”

Harry held out his hand to Merlin. “Then make sure it is the last death you let happen. That there need be no one else sacrificed for your sake. That all deaths that came before was for this moment for you to give others a future.”

The hand was taken and the despairing dreamscape of Merlin's fear of failure was replaced by the familiar seascape that Harry recognized. Distant gulls echoed and the reminder of Shell Cottage was even greater as the smell of salt and of ocean filled his senses.

Merlin's hand was not bloodied anymore and in fact, the Dreamer stood before him, their hands still clasped together. His eyes were bright as he stared at him. “You have passed the first test, Harry. Acceptance of consequences and ownership of what needs to be done. You have discarded the fear of fault with your actions in the last few days. You are on the trial and path to Awaken. Hardships await you, but you have demonstrated the fortitude to overcome them.”

The wording was so formal that for a second, Harry wondered if Merlin was truly this serious. However, it was broken by the kind smile and small wink of encouragement from the Dreamer. “I look forward to our eventual fully-formed partnership, my friend...and you as my Keeper.”

A small moment of silence stretched between them as the remnants of Merlin's despair, of Harry's acceptance and sorrow, was slowly washed away by the soothing sounds of the makeshift Shell Cottage. A warmth enveloped the area, melding their hands together in the bonds of a partnership that had been started. The weave of strands could be felt in the air.

Harry let the moment sit for just a little longer before speaking up. He gestured with a chin around them. “Dreamscape?”

“Yes...though I do have to warn you...your friends are quite worried about you...again...”

Harry nearly groaned as the dreamscape started to quickly fade away. The last thing he remembered was-

The softness of a pillow cradling his head was his first indication that he was in a bed. The second was not the smell of antiseptic, but rather of a crackling fire. He groaned softly as he blearily opened his eyes. The blurry sight of a four-poster bed greeted him and Harry sighed in relief. He was _not_ in the Hospital Wing again.

But, he _was_ in a bed...and he did not remember how he ended up in a bed. Harry sighed in resignation; perhaps there were some things that were not meant to be and him ending up in resting in beds without prior knowledge was one of them.

“I take it this is a regular occurrence in your world?” The soft curious voice of the last person Harry expected made him turn and squint to see the blurry form of Neville Longbottom sitting by his side. He thought he could make out a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ sitting on his lap.

“N-Neville?” Harry did not realize how dry his throat was as he swallowed and lifted a hand out of his blankets to find his glasses-

Only for Neville to hand them to him and he nodded gratefully. He put them on and gingerly pushed himself up, finding that he was dressed in a pair of clean pajamas. He looked around the room and saw that it was the room they inhabited in the Room of Requirement. A quiet trill by the foot of his bed made him see the golden-red plume and familiar sight of Fawkes. The phoenix tilted its avian head at him and ruffled its feathers before hiding his beak and head in a wing, seemingly falling asleep. No one else seemed to be present.

“He's been here since...well...since the beginning,” Neville gestured absently to the phoenix.

“Beginning?” Harry was confused as he shook his arms out. They felt like jelly.

“H-Harry...” Neville stuttered his name and Harry reminded himself that this Neville Longbottom that sat beside him was _not_ his world's Neville and instead, was the true Dreamer of Justice. It also seemed to occur to the other man that he was still not used to seeing him judging by how he grimaced and forced himself to smooth his expression out. Harry did not blame Neville after all, he supposed the Black Queen was far more legendary and well-known than Harry who had been hiding from a majority of the public as Merlin.

“It's been at least a couple of weeks since you were found inside this room by your friends.”

Harry opened his mouth. “I...I don't remember- the last thing-” He quieted. The last thing he truly remembered was being dismissed from the staff room by Snape. He had made his decision to seek out his friends, to ask them about their findings and also why Ron and Godric distrusted the Sadows. Then...this...

“Fawkes was next to your body, crying for you, when your friends found you,” Neville explained and Harry glanced at the phoenix who was seemingly asleep. He had a feeling it was anything but sleeping.

“From what I was told in the beginning, your friends wanted to take you to the Hospital Wing, but then they decided against it for the morale of the school and its defenders. The Minister was summoned and he explained the magical contract you had interrupted between himself and Auror Potter.”

Harry frowned. He honestly had no knowledge of what an actual magical contract was. His one and only encounter with such a thing was with the Goblet of Fire for the Triwizard Tournament. Maybe he should have heeded Ron and Godric's advice and perhaps have asked him about it.

Neville continued. “They decided to keep you here and you should have woken up days ago. But I felt something, something changing and arrived from Cardiff. I could tell something was changing. Something different... No one knew, but my instincts were telling me, Faith and Wisdom that something was happening.”

Neville looked at him. “We summoned Temperance after he finished recovering from his transformation, and he confirmed the change we felt in the air. He said it had started happening the night of the Hogwarts Express attack, that you were Awakening...”

Harry brought his hands out from under the covers and stared at them. “I...don't feel any diff-” He paused as he closed his eyes briefly. He did feel different. But he could not describe it. _Merlin?_ He queried the Dreamer within him and received a gentle nudge, friendly, melding in the strands woven between them, instead of seemingly sitting next to him like previous times. But he still felt the tattered shreds of, remnants that somehow still felt empty.

And Harry knew it was not complete.

He opened his eyes and looked at Neville. He could feel the liquid-like power of Hopes within him and grasped onto it with a gentle hand. However, instead of slipping through his fingers, it felt stronger now, the mental fabric that wove it, tighter, fibrous. However, cautious and mindful of Lupin's words, he did not forcibly grip it and instead let it seemingly dance through his fingers. It slipped away and somehow, he thought it felt grateful for not being held captive.

“It's not complete,” he shook his head. “I...can't describe it, but it's not complete...”

He coaxed gently at the powers that seemingly danced in his mind and pushed it as best as he could towards the shining beacon he recognized as Justice- _oh Nathan, how much I've missed you my friend_ \- and saw the beacon brighten just as a smile appeared on Neville's face. “Thank you,” Neville sounded as grateful as Lupin had when he fumbled the first time on the Express. “That was quite refreshing and soothing.”

“That's...all I can do I think...for now,” Harry shrugged. “Well...except that one time where I was able to hold off a Carrow on the Hogwarts Express. That...I think was instinctual?”

“I heard from my dad,” Neville nodded sagely. “He was rather impressed...”

“Probably more with Rowena than me. She's the one that Awakened,” Harry replied.

“True, but the fact that Dad's been impressed...well...let's just say he's only said that to me twice in my lifetime. Don't worry, not jealous or anything, just the fact that Dad's got some serious standards.” Neville cracked a small smile. “I wish I got to tell your world's Neville that...because the things I see in his memories...the things that Justice shows me...Dad would have been very proud of him...”

Harry met the small smile with a sorrowful one of his own. “I'll be sure to pass that along to him.”

“Thanks,” the other man replied.

“How's Cardiff?” Harry asked. He had barely interacted with this world's Neville Longbottom and was rather curious as to how different and similar he was to his world's Neville.

“Good,” the other man's smile became wider as he seemingly relaxed. “Hannah's been helping me- Oh...hmm..Hannah Abbott-”

“She was Hufflepuff?”

“She exists in your world as a Hufflepuff?”

“Yeah,” Harry grinned. “She was a great help during our fight-”

“Herbology-”

“Actually that was also your forte-”

“Still is,” Neville's smile became wide and proud. “Tentaculas are lining the areas and we've set several traps in case any of the Black King or Dark Lord's forces decide to come attack us.”

“Impressive,” Harry nodded. He could imagine a poor hapless Death Eater wandering into a nest of tentaculas. “How is everyone in Cardiff?”

“Holding strong. Since we defeated their attack, things have been relatively quiet. They probe the defenses, but they're holding strong. I think in a month or two, we can have another stronghold like Hogsmeade or Hogwarts. Maybe make some ground towards other areas which don't have as much defensive measures.” Neville leaned forward. “I've been scouting too.” He suddenly looked sheepish. “Yeah, I know, dangerous, especially since I just became Dreamer of Justice and don't even have an Heir-”

“I wasn't going to say that,” Harry interrupted, frowning. “I think it's brilliant.”

“Huh...oh...” Neville stopped, red suffusing his cheeks. “Uh...well...I guess I'm used to people trying to say that we shouldn't take foolish risks and all that. And I was about to tell them that Justice gives me Occulumency and the ability to sneak in and out of defenses, but you probably knew that...”

“Actually,” it was Harry's turn to look sheepish. “I don't...Merlin, er, well...the Dreamer of Hopes has been a little...quiet shall we say, regarding the other Dreamer powers? I mean, Courage is probably a little obvious, but Faith? Justice? I'm not...sure what it is that you do.”

Neville blinked and sat back. “Oh.” He cleared his throat. “Forgive me then...Harry...I keep forgetting that you never grew up in this world and know its lore like we do.”

“S'okay,” Harry shrugged. “Part of me is glad that you're here. I never really got to talk to you, except for maybe a bit before the attack on Cardiff and not even after that...”

“Harry, err...as Hopes, you can always summon me whenever you wish. We are your Knights. We are your swords and shields. You are our leader,” Neville looked earnest.

Harry was sorely tempted to ask in regards to the Order of the Phoenix but kept his mouth shut. He had a feeling that his father did not want it widely known regarding a third faction in the war. Instead, he merely nodded. “I am honored to be your leader, but I value your input far more than blind loyalty,” he could feel Merlin coloring his words and sent a grateful thought towards the Dreamer.

That brought a smile to Neville's face again. “I understand.” Harry sensed that he had passed a test of sorts, but couldn't decipher what it was. Neville however, leaned forward again. “How are you feeling?”

“My arms still feel like jelly and they're starting to hurt,” Harry lifted a hand and dropped it onto the bed. It felt like lead and every muscle hurt.

“It might be the potions wearing off then,” the other man replied. “Madam Pomfrey did say that you might be feeling them, but you can't take another dose until later tonight. Too much and it's like poison in the body according to her.”

“Why?”

“Like poison? Well-”

“No, I mean, why do I feel this way? I mean...I have been out for two weeks or more before, but this feels...not right...”

Neville frowned as he crossed his arms and sat back. The pose was so reminiscent of Nathan Hufflepuff that Harry thought he caught a glimpse of the ancient Dreamer over Neville's features. “A magical contract...that's still being enacted...”

“What? But I took on the responsibility-oh...” Harry stopped as he thought back on what he had done. “I wrote the letters,” he murmured mostly to himself before he grimaced. “I also asked the Headmaster that I wished to visit the families of those who perished who lived in nearby Hogsmeade.”

Neville sighed and Harry looked up to see the other man shake his head slowly. “That would explain what happened and partly why you collapsed. You modified the contract when you talked to the Minister and based on what your friends and also what Auror Potter told me, you lifted the contract from him to take on the responsibilities. When you wrote the letters, that should have been the end of that. But then you talked to the contract-maker and in essence, modified the contract.”

Harry was confused. “It didn't feel like I took anything or modified anything... The Goblet of Fire spat my name back out when someone put it in for me and it was aid it was a magical contract and I had to compete. But normally I thought contracts would have to be written down with special quills?”

“That's how your world did it?”

“That's not how it works here?”

“The spoken word is woven in the spellwork we say to each other. It's what gives us power. I'm surprised you didn't _feel_ such a thing. That's the easiest identifier of a magical contract...”

“Uh...maybe because I'm from a different world?”

“Possibly,” Neville rubbed his lower lip. “This troubles me...”

Harry gave an undignified snort. “Worries me too. I mean, if I can't feel anything, what do you think my friends might accidentally do?”

The Dreamer of Justice hummed in agreement. “Perhaps, but since they have not reported any of the symptoms you have felt, we have only you as the isolated incident.”

“So...I guess to actually fulfill the contract, I have to go to Hogsmeade and talk with the families?”

“It would be prudent, but-”

“All right, let's go,” Harry threw the blankets off of him and stood up only to nearly collapse onto the floor if it was not for Nathan's sudden help. Fawkes squawked and flapped its wings in alarm. Harry's legs felt equally like jelly and every single muscle _hurt_ like he had been shot with the Cruciatus curse several times. He squeezed his eyes shut in pain as he tried to hold off the sudden waves of agony that crawled up unexpectedly from his body.

“Easy there Harry,” Neville eased him back onto the bed and Harry breathed out noisily from his nostrils as he cracked his eyes open and gulped air down. Maybe this was what his father felt when he had interrupted the meeting between him, Moody and Dumbledore.

“Maybe we should-”

“I want to go, now. I don't want to wait. The families have a right to let their loved ones rest in peace and I honestly don't want to be confined to a bed any longer.” It might have sounded a little too desperate in Harry's ears, but as he glanced at Neville who lowered his arm and stood near him, he could see a wince of sympathy in the other man's eyes.

“Your Neville's memories just brought up a flash of the times you were in the Hospital Wing for some sort or another, and not just for Quidditch-related injuries...” he murmured before nodding. “All right. Give me a few minutes and let me see if I can find an alternative from Madam Pomfrey-”

“Neville where are the others?”

“In classes. It's been quiet in the last couple of weeks since the Hogwarts Express. Minister Dumbledore's asked your friends to sit in classes like they did back before the school year ended. Ron and Ginny protested, but I told them since I am not a part of the Ministry here nor seen on the school grounds that often, I'd be able to help keep an eye on you while the others continue their research and ways to align the cores to return home.”

“Hermione probably agreed,” Harry smiled tiredly.

“She is the brightest witch of our generation,” Neville shrugged. “Pity she wasn't in Gryffindor...”

“Where is she, err...her counterpart now?”

“The Minister wanted her and Ron to go abroad to investigate bringing in more Muggle supplies and so forth. Hermione is one of our best agents in the field for procuring Muggle goods for medicinal purposes or otherwise. I am glad that perhaps one day, she will become Wisdom.”

Harry raised an eyebrow in surprise. It was vastly different in his world where he knew wizards were allowed to interact with Muggles, but in a way that prevented Muggles from truly seeing a different world. Here, it seemed the war forced more drastic measures, the International Statute of Secrecy be damned. It certainly explained paracetamol and some of the other things he had seen in his brief time in the Hospital Wing. “Why?”

“The Dark Lord has a stranglehold over many of the wizarding supplies in an effort to turn the narrative of the Minister using Muggle-made contraptions as a painting him in a senile and dangerous light.”

“Fear of the unknown,” Harry grimaced and Neville nodded solemnly.

“We live too long in secrecy that only Muggle-borns and Half-Bloods know that it's a load of bollocks. But tell that to the wizarding families of old, well...”

“The Founders Ball,” Harry muttered and the other man nodded again.

“Agreed,” Neville stepped away. “I'll go find the potions-”

“Neville, don't let my friends know, all right?”

“Harry-”

“I...don't want to worry them. Not until I finish this. I don't...” he paused looking away for a second – _the fear of fault_ – before turning back. “I know they mean well and I'm grateful for their support, for your support, but sometimes...I want to be alone. I want to see this to the end. Does that make sense?”

Neville was quiet for a moment before the sonorous voice of Justice emerged from his mouth. “ _Admirable. And I am obligated, Harry James Potter, to remind you and remind the Littlest Dreamer that you need not go it alone. But we understand this very well...we feel such pressures when we are in Cardiff._ ”

Harry nodded, feeling a little guilty that he did not visit Neville enough, that he had essentially left one of the Dreamers of Man alone on the battlefield to fend for himself. “I'm sorry,” he apologized.

“Don't be,” Neville's voice returned and he smiled slightly. “I get to show off my parlor tricks to impress the ladies with none of you showy lot around.”

“Hannah would be jealous,” Harry shot back.

Neville only laughed, a light sound that warmed them both before the other man turned and left the room. As the door closed, Harry sighed and gingerly pushed himself back fully onto the bed. Every single muscle felt like it was on fire and not in a good way. It was as if he had cramped up all muscles and left him sore and weak.

Fawkes trilled softly and he turned to see the phoenix lift its head from its wing. “You weren't sleeping were you?” he murmured towards the beautiful creature.

The phoenix did not say anything except to gently step onto the bed, rather carefully picking its way towards him. Harry watched, fascinated at how careful the phoenix was with not ripping the fabric of the bedcovers before the golden-red bird stopped near him. He lifted a hand, grimacing at the effort and stroked the phoenix's beak as best as he could. The bird trilled softly again and canted its head, turning so that his finger strokes were nudging the cheeks right below its luminous eyes.

“What makes you loyal to Dad and not Dumbledore? You loved him and mourned for him when he died in my world...”

The bird only blinked, seemingly not comprehending his question as its eyes drew to a half-close. It trilled again, a soft sing-song sound and Harry felt warm inside. “Thank you,” he said as he lowered his hand.

However his movement was aborted as the phoenix seemingly lifted a wing to stop him. He stared, puzzled at this new development before Fawkes tilted its avian head and Harry watched, fascinated as a single tear dropped from its eye into the palm of his hand. He had only witnessed such a feat twice, once when he was bitten by the Basilisk, the other time was the Acromantula venom from the Triwzard Tournament.

However, instead of healing anything, the tear crystallized into a small pebble no larger than the size of his finger nail. Task done, the phoenix lifted its wings and gave two powerful flaps-

_-FWOOM!_

And disappeared in a puff of fiery smoke, just as the door to the Room of Requirement opened and Neville stepped back in. “Harry?” he called out, puzzled at the sudden black smoke that puffed out.

“Fawkes,” Harry croaked out, coughing a little from the remnants of the fiery phoenix. He attempted to wave a hand around as his other one curled around the crystallized tear.

“Oh,” Neville nodded, taking the news in stride as he kicked the door closed behind him and approached. Two potions with colors Harry distinctly recognized were in the other man's arms and he stared at them.

“That's not what I think it is...” he groaned. One was blood-red color, the other sludge-green. He had last seen them being drunk by his father after confronting Dumbledore about who held responsibility for the defense of the Hogwarts Express.

“Your father gave me these,” Neville looked at him, puzzled. “He's waiting outside, though I told him to stay out there... Just him and Sirius...no one else knows, at least none that I could discern. I've also kept a lid on the letting your friends know through my powers.”

Harry sighed. At least it was only the two of them. “All right...” he gestured with a chin for Neville to hand him the potions. “Red one first...I guess...”

“You know what these are?”

“Nope, not a clue, but I saw Dad drink them after I supposedly interrupted the magical contract between himself and Dumbledore,” Harry replied.

“Are you this reckless to not even know the potion you're about to drink- never mind, I got a memory from that,” Neville shook his head and handed him the red potion. He helped him remove the cork and Harry shakily lifted a hand to down it.

The blood-red potion tasted like a thousand knives sliding down his throat. Harry gagged, resisting the urge to spit it all back up and swallowed. His father endured it and he would do so too. It tasted metallic and sharp all the way down. What felt like long agonizing minutes finally finished with the last shred before he grimaced and shakily handed the bottle back to Neville.

The Dreamer of Justice only sighed and took the cork off of the sludge-green bottle and handed it to him. Harry made a face. It _definitely_ smelled like Dudley's rancid socks. “What is this?” he muttered.

“ _To your health_ ,” Justice spoke from Neville's mouth.

“ _Sod off Nathan_ ,” Merlin took brief control before helping him drink the thing. It was like chunks of garbage that suddenly assaulted his senses; floating around his tongue, throat and all the way down. Harry forced himself to swallow past his gag reflex and resisted the urge to throw it all back up. It was hard, but he puffed up his cheeks as he finished the last drop and screwed his eyes shut. He swallowed the last mouthful with a gagging gulp. Shuddering, he opened his eyes, the remaining bile leaving a sour taste in his mouth. “Ugh...”

He had a feeling that if Ron could see him, either he or Godric would be telling him that was why he should not interrupt a magical contract. He wanted to silently tell both to shove that very sentence up somewhere not so polite. In his mind, Merlin grumbled, feeling equally ill at what they were forced to drink. _Hey, you're not corporeal_ -

_We had to do it several times..._ Merlin countered with brief bits of memories that flashed through his mind and Harry quieted. He reluctantly conceded the point to the Dreamer.

“Feeling better?” Neville interrupted.

Harry was about to say no before he realized, he felt rather... _normal_ all things considered. His muscles did not feel inflamed nor did he feel so weak. Glancing at the now empty potion bottle, he handed it back to Neville. “Yeah...” He shifted his legs to dangle off the side of the bed as he stood up.

A smile worked its way up his face as he grinned. “I feel good...”

“It's only going to last for a short while,” the Dreamer of Justice cautioned.

“Yep, let's go,” Harry nodded enthusiastically. He hurried into the bathroom, grabbing a set of new robes, placing the crystallized phoenix tear into a pocket before changing. Hurrying out, he grabbed his familiar phoenix-core wand and moleskin bag before throwing the door open-

Only to stop as both Sirius and James stood by it, looking rather expectant. Harry only got a brief moment to see that both looked hale and healthy, bandages gone, before he was engulfed in a bone-crushing embrace. He stiffened before he realized it was his _father_ of all people who was hugging him. Warmth, joy and happiness mingled with love filled him as he returned the embrace, trying to hold back the tears at the surge of emotion he was feeling. It felt so much more different than the last time he had tentatively hugged James Potter and he nearly cried.

“You're all right, thank Merlin you're all right,” James' voice was muffled against his robes. It was in that moment that Harry knew that he had taken the first step in this large world, and in that moment, he was ready.

_You have passed the First Trial...the First Dream and embraced the fear of faults... You have given Hope to those who have so little and those who regret their faults._


	30. Family Ties

“I had a feeling you wanted to talk to me for a while now?” Sirius asked. He sounded stilted, formal.

Harry nodded as he, Sirius, James and Neville made their way down to Hogsmeade. He had invited the two to come with him and Neville. It was partially spur of the moment, but another part of him wanted to learn more about this world's version of his godfather. James seemed to pick up on his intention as he agreed much to Sirius' disconcerted expression. Now James walked behind them, next to Neville. They were ostensibly talking about Cardiff's defenses and how the fight was going, but Harry was grateful that he could speak to Sirius alone.

He hardly had the chance to talk with his godfather, finding Sirius either on patrols, away or covering for Remus' classes. If anything, Harry had a feeling Sirius had been avoiding him since the Founders' Ball.  _ And that should be your first question... _ He felt the gentle nudge from Merlin and opened his mouth.

Merlin's voice emerged from it, light, conversational. “ _ How fares you in light of the Black Queen's identity? _ ”

“Ah...Merlin...” He cleared his throat lightly. “Not as well, as you may have noticed. “ He looked sheepish. “I think you've noticed that I have been avoiding you...you and Harry.”

Both Harry and Merlin were too polite to call him out on it, and instead let the silence hang between them.

Sirius cleared his throat again. “But, I cannot fault what the Weavers have decided as James' son's fate. For years, I have been trying to come to terms over my brother's death at the hands of the current Black Queen. To find out his true identity...” He sighed. “It is not easy, but to ease your own misgivings, I am aware that you, Harry, are a very different man than the one who claims to be James' son.”

“I won't give up on him, Sirius,” Harry looked at the man who was his godfather. “I want to save him.”

“I know...I...know...” This close to Sirius, Harry could see that he was a rakishly handsome man. His face was unlined with age, almost youthful, whereas his world's Sirius was aged from his time in Azkaban. Yet, there was a solemnity, a tempering of the recklessness in Sirius Black's eyes that was not in his world's. This world's Sirius knew of loss, but like the others, grew up in a world of war and if he remembered correctly, was one of Dumbledore's spies in an attempt to infiltrate the Dark Lord's ranks. A far cry from the bombastic over-the-top antics that he was sometimes used to. This Sirius Black learned from the recklessness of youth and became a tempered blade.

“I know I'll have to cross that bridge when you do succeed,” Sirius sighed. “And I know you will succeed because not only are you Hopes, but you are your father's son, no matter what world you are from.”

Harry swallowed hard. That was high praise and the ease of which was spoken rattled him a little. While some of the language spoken reminded him of Sirius who had tried to encourage and comfort him during his fourth and fifth years at Hogwarts, it still sounded like it was coming from someone else. He stared hard at Sirius who met his gaze with an equal intensity that startled him.

“You don't believe me,” Sirius broke the brief stalemate.

Harry looked away. “I want to,” he replied. “In my world, you were my godfather, you were the closest thing I had to a family. But you were reckless, you wanted to do things and you were passionate about the cause, about keeping Dad's memory alive to the point where I think...I think you and I realized that you were either trying to replace me with Dad or was trying to be the cool brother and friend.”

“That did not get resolved...”

“No...” Harry hunched his shoulders a little. “You died, falling through an archway that supposedly led straight to the afterlife after Bellatrix's curse hit you.”

“ _Expelliarmus!”_

_Lucius was instantly disarmed and Sirius grinned._

“ _Nice one, James!”_

_Harry froze for a second, staring at Sirius who did not seem to realize what he had just said and flourished his wand to blast the elder Malfoy back. And it was in that one horrible frozen moment that Bellatrix struck._

“I know you're two separate people, Harry,” Sirius's mild tone brought him back to look at his godfather.

“Well, uh...Dad-”

“I mean in the sense between you and the Black Queen,” Sirius interrupted. “I know the difference...and it's not only because of your actions. I also know people can change. My own brother changed right before my eyes. I once thought Regulus to be our mother's favorite because he was sorted in the Slytherin, was the perfect Black, spouted the same pure-blood nonsense that my family professed.”

“Regulus existed in my world too...”

“I take it he's dead?”

“Yeah,” Harry paused, wondering if he should elaborate, but Sirius only smiled a little.

“Seems like the House of Black can't catch a break in either world,” his godfather's smile stretched into a melancholic look. “But my brother was brave, probably more than I ever was. He should have been sorted into Gryffindor...at least that's what I've been thinking since his death.”

His lips twitched wistfully. “But he probably would have hated it. He liked working in the background than anything else. Maybe that's why he was so successful in his infiltration and eventual rise as the Black Queen. Me? I know my own faults...I know what I am and maybe, that's why I'm regulated to just one of Moody's part-time Aurors and fill-in Defense teachers...”

There was a bitterness in Sirius' voice that Harry recognized. It was the same bitterness that preceded Sirius' more reckless actions that eventually culminated in him getting killed at the Ministry. He was not used to hearing Sirius being so frank and self-aware. Harry bit his lip. “You're not useless...” he muttered. “Please don't say that...”

Sirius laughed sadly. “You sound like James.” He gestured with an absent hand behind them. “Don't worry. I would hope to think that some of my more youthful impulses have been tempered over the years. I won't leave your Dad alone, not after Lily abandoned him. Not with all that's happened. Truth be told, I would think you'd be more worried about your Dad than with me.”

“I am,” Harry replied, feeling a little embarrassed, “but you were like a Dad to me in my world. And I guess...is it bad to get to know you a little more? That I'm worried you think I'm like this world's Harry?”

Sirius tilted his head a little. “Well...if it makes you feel any better, it does give me some comfort to know that maybe James and Lily's eldest son could turn out to be someone like you. That maybe, if what I was told, that somehow the Black Queen could be saved. I don't know if I can ever forgive him for killing my brother, even if I was named as his godfather, but for now, I'm at peace.”

Harry stared at Sirius with some wonderment. This world's Sirius Black was  _ definitely _ very different. More introspective, more serious – though he utterly did not intend that pun – world weary, it drove home to Harry how long and how hard many had fought. Why had the war gone on for so long? Why did Dumbledore allow it to go on for so long? He wished he had asked those questions when he had been talking with the Headmaster.  _ Do you know why? _ He queried his Dreamer, but was met with silence once more. It seemed getting anything out of Merlin regarding his previous Keeper was near impossible and it puzzled him more often than not.

“Not like your world's Sirius Black?”

“No, but maybe, if he lived, maybe he would have become someone like you?” Harry asked, a little hopeful.

Sirius barked out a quiet laugh. “I hope not,” the other man replied. “Too many harsh lessons that I had to learn. One of which is getting over the jealousy that I had two of my dearest friends become Dreamers. At least that was quick – all of the hardships they have to go through...not fun, compared to my own. Then well...I'm sure you can figure out the rest.”

“It's not fun, being in the spotlight,” Harry looked thoughtfully out towards the buildings of Hogsmeade that were getting closer and closer with each step.

“No,” Sirius replied, “I saw that happen to Remus and James. But it feels a lot more powerless to know that you're not in the same position, yet you can't do anything for them to get them out of that position.” There was something angry in Sirius' eyes now, but it did not seem to be directed at Harry.

An idea occurred to him. He mentally reached out and gently tugged at the fibrous strands of his Dreamer powers. Instinct took over and he broke a piece of it, willing it to be a tangible form as he lifted his palm up and saw something dissolve and settle into his hand. It looked like a piece of silky white cloth with gold edging. Harry could feel the lightness in it and smiled as he thrust his palm towards Sirius.

“Here,” he said.

“What is it?” Sirius plucked the cloth from his palm and his eyes widened immediately. It was clear he could feel the power from it. “This...”

“Hope manifested, at least I think it's Hope manifested, for you,” Harry replied. The small piece of woven cloth reminded him of the patterns that was on the Invisibility Cloak. “I know it's not much-”

“This...is more than enough,” Sirius held the piece of cloth in his weathered, gloved hands staring at it with some wonderment. “This is beautiful...”

Harry smiled a little, but shook his head as his godfather attempted to give it back to him. “It's yours. Keep it.” He received a sharp look before nodding once in confirmation.

“Thank you,” Sirius replied before gently touching it with his fingers and pocketing it. He roughly cleared his throat. “Are you ready?”

Harry looked up to see that they were approaching Hogsmeade proper. He remembered where the houses were of those who lived in the village that had died defending the Hogwarts Express. “Yeah...” Squaring his shoulders, his stepped ahead of Sirius and approached the first of the houses. It was time to finish the contract, but also time to give the mourners a sense of peace.

* * *

A chilly autumnal wind and a light patter of rain had picked up by the time Harry was finished with the last house. James suggested they go to the Hog's Head to warm up, after finding that a crowd had started to gather around Honeydukes in anticipation of potentially seeing Merlin when word got out that he was visiting a few houses. Harry was grateful for the change, though when they arrived, there was an equally gathering crowd there too. James said that he and Sirius would go in to get their orders and come back out, citing that those in the village were used to seeing the two of them around.

Harry agreed, even though part of him wanted to see if Aberforth Dumbledore was still the bartender. But he supposed he would have to content himself with that possibility instead of actually seeing him. He was glad, though, to see that the village had quickly rebuilt itself after the Black Queen's vicious attack following the Founders' Ball. Neville had excused himself to talk to a wizard who was selling some plants and herbs nearby. Harry idly watched, glamoured in both the guise of Merlin and a little more to shadow the knowledge that Merlin was around.

Raucous laughter that emanated from Hog's Head made him glance towards the tavern before he slid his gaze elsewhere. With each family he had visited, Harry had bestowed upon them a touch of Hope, letting the families mourn and grieve while he listened to them. He did not say much, but in the end he felt exhausted, much like when he had been writing the letters. Sirius, James and Neville had not said as much, but he was given a small piece of chocolate after each house.

Now, Harry felt better, even as he stood in the cold drizzle. He breathed in deeply, the earthy smell of burning firewood, moss, dirt, and bits of sweet hints from the various shops selling their wares filling him. Letting his breath go slowly, he glanced back at Hog's Head, and caught the sight of a dark cloaked figure emerging from one of the side doors.

Curious, Harry watched as the figure looked left and right before seemingly clutching something tighter to their persons and hurried down the alleyway. Something in Harry told him to follow, but cautiously as he loosened his hands and walked towards the alleyway.

He waved off Neville's glance at him as he made his steps more casual and followed the cloaked figure. There was something familiar about the figure and it took him a moment to realize it was the way the person walked. But what was surprising was not that he recognized the way the person walked, but that  _ Merlin _ recognized it and mentally tapped him on the shoulder regarding it.

“ _ Guinevere? _ ” he spoke softly.

The cloaked figure paused.

“I was warned to leave earlier when you first made your appearance, but I didn't heed the warning,” the voice was definitely not Guinevere, at least not from what Merlin could remember the Queen of Camelot sounding like. The figured turned and Harry took a step back in shock.

Far from Guinevere that stood before him, but rather it was Bellatrix Lestrange. Her heavy-lidded eyes were staring straight at him, her hands wrapped around a package of sorts that was held close to her cloak. There was no wand in her fingers, but Harry remembered how  _ fast _ she was on the draw.

“What, no pithy comeback? No hex?”

“I could ask the same to you, Dreamer of Lust,” Merlin's voice colored Harry's accusation as the two stared at each other. This was the closest he had been to her, the visions of the Black Queen not withstanding. The last time, he had threw the Cruciatus Curse at her only for it to stun her briefly before she was cackling madly. This close, he almost could not recognize her except for what he remembered seeing in his counterpart's visions. Like Sirius, the lack of time in Azkaban revealed that she too had startlingly comely features. Even her eyes, however heavy-lidded, were bright – though Harry could not tell if it was the same madness that consumed his world's Bellatrix Lestrange.

“Isn't your kind prone to attacking first and not standing there like a stupid statue?” She snarled, her lips curling into the familiar smirk he remembered and Harry flinched.

“I could say the same,” he shot back. “Where's the rest of the Death Eaters? The Dementors you so loved at the Hogwarts Express-”

“Don't you dare speak of that!” Bellatrix hissed, her eyes bulging in anger as she gripped the package she had tightly around her. There was a definite clink of glass inside it.

Harry looked at it before she wrapped her arms around it tighter.

“Don't come any closer,” she suddenly warned, holding a hand up at them. However, there was no feel of power from it, nor anything else for that matter. It did not take Harry much to realize that it was just a bluff...and also-

“You don't want  _ anyone _ to know you're here,” he murmured. He took an involuntary step forward-”

“Stop!” Bellatrix's eyes widened. “I'm warning you-”

“All right, all right,” Harry held up his hands, taking a step back. “Just...let's just calm down. No need to use powers or wands...”

“Move back!” she hissed again, shaking her outstretched arm, however, it seemed to upset whatever balance she had with the package as part of it suddenly slipped under her elbow and she immediately tried to grab onto it. Only for some of its contents to spill onto the ground.

The bottles – potions Harry realized – fell out, crashing to the ground. Some broke while others rolled away. Bellatrix soft denial wailed in the air as she immediately knelt down to try to salvage the ones that had not broken. Harry could only stare, struck at the witch he once hated with such a passion reduced to scrabbling all over the ground for potions. It was only the familiar minty-herbal smell that wafted in the air that struck another thought in him.

“He's not getting better, is he?” he asked softly.

The Dreamer of Lust froze from where she had been futility trying to scoop up the potions. Dark eyes glared up at him and the familiar sneer was back on her face.

“And what would  _ you _ know, Heir?” she hissed.

“He's not getting better...” Harry realized with some horror that Bellatrix had evidently risked coming here for some kind of potion, some kind of mysterious healing concoction that she could not get anywhere else. “Why else would you come here? So close to Dumbledore's stronghold...” It certainly begged the question of how injured his counterpart was in the aftermath of the Hogwarts Express attack.

He remembered Hermione saying that the his counterpart had collapsed also during the attack and was seemingly protected by Bellatrix until they could retreat. Then Snape told him that the Black Queen had been subjected to the Cruciatus curse and physical torture by the Dark Lord. Harry shuddered as he stared at the witch before him.

The Bellatrix Lestrange he knew was a crazy woman, but very proud of her heritage and what she was. She would have never been reduced to scrounging for potions or for caring for anyone. The Bellatrix he had seen in his brief glimpses of his counterpart's world was nearly the same, proud of her status as a full Dreamer, but with one marked difference. She cared deeply for his counterpart – enough to risk her well-being and her life to find healing potions for him.

Harry swallowed hard as he opened his mouth. But no sound came out. He felt unsettled. There was something familiar about the way Bellatrix was acting, but he could not figure out why. He closed it and knelt down, but did not move closer. The soft jab against his upper thigh reminded him of the object he had in his pocket and he pulled it out. He stared at the crystallized phoenix tear.

It was the right thing to do.

“Here,” Harry stretched his hand out, palm up with the phoenix tear in it towards Bellatrix who had fallen silent.

She stared at him, her chest heaving. An expression that was a cross between fear and hope was on her face as she stared at what he held out. “What is that?” she asked warily.

“Something that could help Harry...” he replied. “A phoenix tear...”

Her eyes widened. He could feel the brief glimmer of hope swirl around her before it was extinguished as she stared shrewdly at it. “How do I know it's not a trick?”

“What reason do I have to trick you?” Harry asked, even though it was most definitely  _ not _ what he wanted to say. He protested Merlin's heavy-handed treatment of his words. But the Dreamer chided him gently.

“He told me what you did, Merlin,” Bellatrix spat, “how you delved into his mind without his permission. Sought his secrets. Well, you won't get them! Not if I have anything to say about it-”

“Tell him that I'm sorry,” Harry interrupted, “tell him that I didn't mean for any of it to happen-”

“ _Tell Arthur I'm so sorry...that I didn't mean for this to happen...for any of it to happen. Lancelot and I will be safe, we'll flee...we won't trouble him anymore-”_

Bellatrix suddenly snarled and lunged forward so fast that Harry barely saw her snatching the phoenix tear out of his outstretched palm before she scrabbled back like a wounded animal. That same hiss emerged from her mouth. He tracked her eyes and glanced behind him to see both Sirius and James emerging from the side door of the Hog's Head.

“Wait! Don't!” Harry realized what the scene might have looked like and stood up, holding up a hand to stop the two from approaching, wands half-drawn. He glanced back to see Bellatrix clutching the remnants of the potions she had closer to her all the while looking quite terrified.

“Merlin-” James started.

Harry turned back to Bellatrix. “Go!” he commanded. “Go now!”

She gave one last screech before Disapparating with a loud crack. Harry lowered his hand as he stared at where she had knelt. All that was left was broken potion bottles and a steaming pile of liquid that was slowly being diluted from the dreary drizzle. It was a sad and lonely sight.

* * *

The walk back to Hogwarts was in relative silence, Neville walking next to him and both Sirius and James following behind the two of them. He could feel their eyes on him and knew they had questions that he had refused to answer. He did not know why he had decided to give Bellatrix the phoenix tear, nor did he know why the once visceral reaction he had to her presence had not quite reared its ugly head. Instead, pity, was the only word he could come up with, seeing her kneeling on the ground, trying desperately to salvage potions. Pity for a woman he knew who was a psychotic killer in his world.

“Harry!” He looked up to see Hermione, Ron and Ginny running down the stairs, robes flying behind them. There was no one else in sight and Harry was nearly bowled over by the force of Hermione running full-tilt into him, embracing him almost as tightly as his father had.

Harry stumbled and caught himself, returning the embrace as she released him and stepped back. He caught Ginny in an equally enthusiastic hug and could feel her soothing presence wash over him. He was reluctant to release her, but did so as he still felt rather shy about such public displays of affection with her. She pecked him quickly on the cheek in return and he felt himself warm in embarrassment.

“Sorry for worrying all of you, again,” he apologized as he looked at them.

“Oh Harry...” Hermione only shook her head before elbowing Ron roughly in his side as he opened his mouth. Ron closed his mouth and merely nodded while Ginny slipped her arm around his. He grasped her fingers, feeling a sense of calm about her.

“Ginny and I felt something and went to go find Ron,” Hermione continued. “Did you...”

“Not yet...” Harry shook his head before pointing to it with a small shrug. “I think this is the first trial? It feels...easier...I guess is the right word, though...”

The others nodded before Hermione turned a bit. “Neville...you-”

“We decided to finish the contract,” Neville's reply was smooth and contained no indication of Harry's wish to not let his friends know. “It is done. Harry has given a measure of peace to the families and Hope dare I say.”

Harry frowned. He would not go that far, but it at least felt good and felt right to have talked with the families. But still, he knew that these were trying and fragile times as he nodded in agreement.

“Should anything have gone amiss, I am sure the Dreamer of Justice would have contained the situation,” James spoke up before smoothly changing the subject with a gentle cough. “Sirius and I have to resume our duties and patrol, but we hope to see you in at the Order meeting later tonight.”

“Order meeting?” Harry glanced at his father, but it was Sirius who answered.

“The Minister's called one tonight to discuss further plans. While it's been quiet since the attack on the Hogwarts Express, he is rather worried about what those actions, especially with Wisdom Awakened, would mean for the next few months. With Faith, Wisdom and Justice back, there is a need to discuss plans and contingencies should the Dark Lord decide to continue to escalate this war back to its pre-1983 levels.”

“Oh...”

“Unfortunately, Auror Potter, please pass on my regrets to the Minister. I must be returning to Cardiff. My absence may have not been noticed by the Dark Lord, but there are matters I need to attend to,” Neville looked at all of them before stepping forward. Ginny slipped her hand out of Harry's and stepped away as Neville reached out and clasped him on the shoulder. “I'm glad we got the chance to talk Harry, even get to know you better. As I had said before, don't hesitate to call upon myself when you are in need.” He squeezed his shoulder once and stepped back. With a nod towards James and Sirius, he suddenly Disapparated with a crack.

“I thought you couldn't Apparate inside Hogwarts grounds?” Ron spoke up.

“One of Justice's specialties is wards and shielding,” Ginny spoke up, “it's how we were able to create the barriers to try to keep the Faydes away when they had attacked. He might have bent the wards around Hogwarts to allow himself to Apparate.”

“Handy,” Ron looked rather impressed.

Harry too thought it was rather impressive, but he was more interested in the non-verbal exchange that had happened between his father and Neville. It seemed awfully convenient of the Dreamer of Justice to suddenly leave just as any mention of Dumbledore or the Order of the Ministry meeting was mentioned. But he knew he couldn't voice his suspicions here and now.

“See you all later tonight, 9pm sharp,” James said with a nod of his head before he and Sirius headed up and into the castle proper. That left the four of them standing outside, the drizzle that had started slowly dying away. However, the low clouds that brought the misty rain still hung about.

Harry looked at his friends who stared back. A tired smile was on Hermione's face while Ron looked rather put out. Ginny only reached over and grasped his hand once more. “No lectures?” he asked, half-jokingly.

“What else could we say?” Ron groused. “At least you're up and about...”

Harry had to laugh at his friends words. “Sorry...”

“We understand,” Ginny said softly, “and we know you'd do the same for us. Just...be careful, all right? Both you and Merlin. We want to try to help this world, but we also need to be aware of the dangers in here and the unknowns...”

“The magical contract I interrupted.”

“Yeah...” Ron frowned. “Seriously mate, you didn't feel a thing?”

“No...not until when I woke up and tried to get up. Why? The last magical contract I know of was the Goblet of Fire...and even then I didn't feel a thing...”

“Well,” Hermione looked thoughtful, “the Unbreakable Vow is another one, but that just leaves imprints of the binding agreement on your skin as a reminder before it fades after the Vow is completed by both parties. The wording of that has to be precise though, so you definitely can feel it. I've heard that people who don't fulfill that type of contract some times feel like they're having a heart attack or something.”

“Was there ever any explanation of any Triwizard Tournament champion that refused to participate?”

“No...” Hermione replied to Ron's question. “Every indication that those who put their name in the Goblet of Fire knew what they were getting into and those that were chosen never refused.”

“Bollocks,” Ron frowned.

“Besides the obvious, how did you or Godric know it was a magical contract? Did you feel anything different?”

“I...don't know,” Ron admitted, “all I know is that Godric felt something, but he won't say what. He just said that it needed to stop that it was hurting him-” Ron suddenly fell silent before rolling his eyes and shaking his head. Harry had a feeling that his friend was having a mental conversation with the Dreamer inside of him.

“What,” he prompted.

“Godric says that he didn't like the  _ feel _ – whatever that means – of his previous...steward, seriously? That's what you call them? Stewards? The previous feel of what his Steward was going through.”

“Merlin calls me his Keeper,” Harry interjected.

_ You picked the title... _ The Dreamer within him sounded a little sarcastic, but affectionate.

“He's also saying that it's hard to put into words, but I get the feeling that he's felt it before and doesn't like feeling it. My guess is that as Heirs, maybe in some sort of way, the Dreamers are still tethered to their previous Ste...er...Keeper...host person,” Ron shook his head. “Gin? Hermione? Wanna help here?”

“I...didn't really get a chance to test that out when Faith Awakened...” Ginny looked sheepish.

“Professor McGonagall didn't say anything when I tried to ask her,” Hermione replied, “but then again, even though she is the previous Dreamer of Wisdom, I get the feeling that its been a long time since she held that title...maybe it fades away as the years go by?”

“Maybe,” Harry shook his head. “What's done is done. The families have closure, the letters have been sent...”

“And that was a brave thing you did Harry,” Ginny squeezed his hand. Harry smiled at her.

“Let's get back inside, I'm freezing out here,” Ron shivered and they turned to head back in.

“So what's been going on? Did you get a chance to talk to Marius?” Harry asked, glad that his friends were not going to make another fuss about him ending up bandaged or in bed for the last two weeks.

“After a fashion and after Ron all but tried to accuse him of being a Death Eater or a spy for Crouch,” Hermione gave an arched look at Ron.

“What?” Ron held up his hands defensively, “All right, so I compared him and his sister to Death Eaters aligned with Crouch's Aurors. What...she's a Crouch Auror. What say that they're all Death Eater spies?”

Harry glanced at Ginny who sighed and shook her head. “Ron, he's just a little over enthusiastic about the return of the Dreamers. Who can blame him?”

“He's half-Veela too,” he groused.

“And?” Ginny challenged.

“So...well-”

“Don't think we don't see you looking at Marion each time she walks by, Ron,” Hermione pointed out. “Even after what we learned about them. Half-Veela or not, Marius has been telling us extremely useful information about the Dreamers.”

“Like what?” Harry interjected. He ignored the dark look from Ron, clearly showing more interest in the information than in supporting him. He did not know why his best friend was so adamant about the Sadows.

“He suspects that Grindelwald's 'chess pieces' so to speak and to take from the headlines of the Prophet-”

“Really?”

“They are useful in this respect, Harry...plus, you have referenced them yourself.”

“Yeah, okay...” he conceded the point to Hermione.

“Anyways,” she continued, “Marius thinks that not all of the chess pieces Grindelwald has on the metaphoric board are the Dreamers. Some of the known ones, like the Black Queen are Heirs. But he also has a theory that the Heirs to the Seven Sins of Man are not fixed either. They change...”

“Change how?”

Ginny picked up the narrative. “He thinks they may change depending on the circumstances. Remember what Professor Lupin said about Grindelwald? Maybe he's trying to find the proper Heir to Fears. It could explain why there might be a civil war between the Black King and Black Queen. The current Heir is the Black Queen, but what if once, long ago, it was the Black King?”

“When I slipped into his thoughts,” Harry absently nodded, “he did seem to hold Voldemort under a lot of contempt and was even trying to undermine him. There's no love lost between the two of them, that's for sure...”

“But those are just Heirs,” Ron interjected. “What about the actual Dreamers? I mean, we all heard that Fears is one of the hardest to find an Heir for, and I get the feeling that Grindelwald's been a Dreamer for maybe as long as Dumbledore?”

“Well, we know Bellatrix is the Dreamer of Lust...”

“It also used to be Queen Guinevere...” Harry spoke up quietly. His friends paused and stared at him. He nodded. “Merlin confirmed it...”

Hermione gave a small 'oh' while Ginny only squeezed his hand again in support. Harry winced. “I don't think Guinevere, when she was Lust, actually meant any harm to King Arthur.”

“I thought Guinevere was a Muggle like King Arthur?”

“That's where the book and history gets confusing,” Hermione shook her head as they continued walking. “It's not really clear who was who. What we know from our world, what Ginny's studied in magical lore, and what's happening in this world...it's all very confusing. Marius is helping us, but even he's trying to unearth years of documents he's got and it's not that easy.

“I do remember Dumbledore saying that there were instances where Dreamers changed their powers and renounced their old ones. He mentioned two of the Hogwarts founders, the actual ones, Slytherin and Ravenclaw becoming Fears and Envy and before that Faith and Wisdom,” Hermione continued before she pushed open a heavy door.

Harry realized they had walked all the way to the library. “Errr...Rowena?” he could feel the glamour covering him as a few students looked up at their entry.

“We're doing some more research. We've been sitting in the various classes like we did at the end of last term, but since you're now awake, it'll be best if we try to find out as much of the Dreamers as possible. Maybe come up with a plan,” Hermione whispered just as Madam Pince rounded the corner and came up to them, her hawkish face narrowing at the sight of them.

“I please ask that you be respectful of the library's rules even if you are the Knights of Merlin,” her voice was as sharp as Harry remembered.

“We're sorry, Madam Pince. But we were hoping if you could direct us on a few books that may help us in our research to return to our world and time?” Hermione produced a small scrap of parchment out from the folds of her robes.

The librarian made a noise as she snatched the parchment and read it over the glasses sitting at the end of her nose. A thin eyebrow rose and she looked at them. “These are Dreamer lore books.”

“Yes,” Hermione braced herself, “Marius Sadow recommended them in order for us to further understand the Dreamers in this day and age. Because only three of us have Awakened when we have not yet fully done so in our time and world, he suspects that perhaps the lore may have yet to be changed or will change. This may affect how we are able to return to our world.”

The hawkish librarian pinched her lips before nodding once. “Very well. I will allow access to the Restricted section of the library then.” She pulled her wand out and waved it in the air. No sound emerged from her mouth, but Harry could see a flash of gold somewhere deeper in the library before she put her wand away. “Remember, no talking. And you cannot check out the books from the Restricted section of the library unless you have a teacher's permission. Not even for such esteemed persons such as yourselves.”

“Thank you,” Hermione took the parchment back as Pince left them. Harry resigned himself to reading more books and doing more research. He supposed there were two bright spots – one Ginny was with him so it made reading a lot more bearable. Two, there was at least the Order of the Ministry meeting later tonight that would give them a break.

* * *

James absently tapped his forearm with his wand as he and Sirius headed up to the Astronomy Tower to relieve Alice and Frank Longbottom from their extended patrol. Alice had graciously agreed to extend her patrol time with her husband when James found out about Harry waking up. His remnant Dreamer powers had given him enough of a hint to go towards the Room of Requirement in time to intercept the Dreamer of Justice. Just as he was leaving to find potions.

The last two weeks, while relatively quiet, had been rough on James. He blamed himself for not being strong enough to stop Harry from intercepting the contract he had agreed to with Dumbledore. His own recovery based on what he had been subjected to was long and slow. Then, based on Remus' excited words before he took the requisite time off for his transformations, it seemed that Harry was finally under going the trials to Awaken. That had put both fear and hope in him.

None of them knew what would happen – having not even been born when Dumbledore underwent his Trials. No one knew. All they knew was that Harry had collapsed somewhere during the night after he had finished his letters and had not woken since. Pomfrey kept an eye on his health and set up IV lines of potions to keep the consequences of an unfinished contract at bay. For a while, no one thought Harry would wake up, but now, it had been a joy to see him up.

To learn that he had completed the first trial was a bonus. He did not know how much more, but James secretly hoped the next trial was not to take Harry away for another two weeks. Dumbledore was tight lipped about it, but then again as his right as the outgoing Hopes, he would not reveal the trials each Dreamer underwent. Even James knew better than to forewarn Ron about his Trials as Courage. The only thing one knew about the Trials for each Dreamer was that they tested the worthiness of an Heir.

It was also why he and Sirius readily obeyed Harry's order to stop and not approach Bellatrix Lestrange when they had exited Hog's Head. He did not know if it was part of Hopes' trial, but he felt some _thing_ that whispered to him to leave the tavern and investigate. He could not identify what it was, but it felt urgent. Harry had clearly given something to Bellatrix and she looked like a corner animal. The odd thing was that he did not feel a single ounce of her power as Lust hanging in the air which made her presence even more suspicious.

Just what had she been doing there?

“Does Snape know?” Sirius seemed to be thinking along the same lines as he was as they ascended another set of stairs.

“I don't think so. Dumbledore's not sent him to the Dark Lord since he returned after the Hogwarts Express,” James replied. It was highly unusual, since Snape usually went at least once a week to the Dark Lord's lair at the Ministry of Magic in London during the school year. Sometimes it was with an audience with the Dark Lord, but more often than not, it was for more mundane purposes like counterintelligence. The holidays and summer months gave more freedom for Snape to conduct his missions.

“I heard he visited you while you were laid up,” Sirius commented lightly.

“I'm fine, Sirius,” James glanced at his best friend, “there was no malicious intent.”

Sirius merely shrugged. “I'm only saying you need to pace yourself, James. You move too fast, you will show your hand. Remember what happened the last time that it nearly happened? And the time that it _did_ happen?”

“Yeah...Lily,” James grimaced as he tapped his wand absently before twirling it in his fingers.

“Everything will fall into place. Just trust your instincts; trust the plans you've put into place, but most of all, trust Harry. His Awakening as a Dreamer is fortuitous, but we can only guide him.”

James glanced at his friend. “Since when did you become so wise?”

“You send me to keep an eye on the Sadows, of course I'm going to pick up a few Ravenclaw-esque things,” Sirius chuckled as they ascended the final steps of the Astronomy Tower. They both raised their hands in greeting to Alice and Frank who had turned at their approach.

“How is the lad?” Frank asked.

“His first Trial is complete. I felt it. It feels...good,” James nodded, a smile appearing on his face. Frank nodded, a small smile on his face. The older Longbottom was immensely proud the day he learned that his son was not only Heir, but had become the Dreamer of Justice. However, James knew that Harry had just as impressed Frank with his decisiveness and foresight of actions during the planning of the Hogwarts Express as well as during the battle.

Frank Longbottom was a hard man to please and whose loyalty was even harder to maintain. He brook no fools nor any superfluous language that tried to sway him from one side to another. He took the facts as it was and decided his own fate. James knew he was very lucky to have the man as his ally and his wife as well. Alice Longbottom was no slouch at Herbology and defensive spells. Their son Neville was perhaps the perfect choice to become the new Dreamer of Justice – protecting Cardiff with his life. James certainly appreciated the independence Neville had managed to carve out for himself and the pledge to Harry before they had parted reaffirmed the young Longbottom's commitment to the Order of the Phoenix even if he did not reveal he was a part of it.

“Good to hear. Merlin's beard wouldn't I give to feel that feeling once more. Something was _right_ back on the train when he used his power on the Carrow. It has been a long time James, a long time,” Frank clapped him on the shoulder, a bark of laughter emerging from his mouth before he started to make his way down the stairs.

“Please let me know if there is anything Frank or I may do to help Merlin, James,” Alice patted his shoulder and followed her husband down the stairs.

“The young man doesn't know it, but he's really given this place a sense of hope once more,” Sirius sighed as he walked over to the edge of the observatory and lifted his wand. James watched as his friend closed his eyes and drew a series of absent shapes with his wand, testing a focal point of the barriers that was up here on the Astronomy Tower. “Hmm...needs a bit of tweaking,” his friend opened his eyes and tapped a part of the air, invisible to all eyes save for the barest shimmer that almost looked quite warped if one was able to catch the barrier in the right light.

“And yourself?” he asked as he stepped forward and placed an open palm on the area that Sirius had been tapping with his wand. He felt the shimmering threads of the spell fraying and closed his eyes. Concentrating on the weave of the spell, he plucked the remnants of his powers and gently eased a bit of power into the weave. He could feel it warm against his palm and opened his eyes to see the remnant flare burst forth, repairing the frayed spell.

Lowering his hand, he let it rest on the guardrail of the balcony. He leaned against it, looking out towards the beautiful landscape that surrounded Hogwarts. Sirius moved to stand next to him, resting his own hands next to his own; not quite touching, but not moving away either. Instead, it was a comforting reminder that the man he considered his best friend, more than a brother, would always be next to him, no matter what. They did not need any sort of physical display to indicate their relationship, just being near each other was enough for both of them.

“I'll cope,” Sirius replied quietly, sighing. “He's given me hope, that's for sure. And the fact that he's given you hope and you're now doing all of this...it makes me happy to see you like this, James. That you're more alive than ever before.”

“I know...” James looked to the side. “I was in a dark place...a very dark place for a long time.”

“Lily-”

“Sirius, don't,” James looked at his friend. “Please...don't.”

Sirius stared at him for a long moment before nodding. “All right...” James was glad that he decided to drop the issue. He never told anyone except for Marion and Harry the true reason what had truly happened to Courage's powers and how he had selfishly driven Lily to Snape. He knew Sirius blamed Lily and saw her in a light many thought the same, but neither could he reveal the real reason – not without compromising Lily, compromising Snape, but most of all, compromising the truth of everything. He could not do that until he was ready – until he was sure. The Order of the Phoenix had to survive.

They fell into a moment of amicable silence before Sirius changed subjects. “Iris asked for you...”

“I know...” James grimaced. He had been a bad father since the Founders' Ball. Eddie and Iris were taken care of during the summers and holidays by a rotating group of Aurors assigned by Moody since they were born. It was partially due to the children having two parents who were Dreamers and thus needed in the war effort, but as time went on and both of them lost their powers, they were needed elsewhere to bolster support for Dumbledore's Ministry and also to counter the Dark Lord's plans and push that culminated in the actual Ministry of Magic being lost as their stronghold.

When they re-established their own Ministry at Hogwarts, James had been too busy helping set up defensive measures and making sure the populace was protected. Lily should have spent more time with the children, but it was also during that time period where they were barely speaking with one another and her affair with Snape had become quite public.

Now...James knew he was neglecting his children, but he could not help matters. Merlin, Harry, the whole business with the Dreamers returning...followed by the revelation of the Black Queen at the Founders' Ball...it was a lot to take in and to try to explain to Eddie and Iris that their older brother was alive, but they may be forced to fight him. James did not know how to handle that.

“I'll visit her when I can. How are the kids?” He asked. Sirius was a part of the rotational group of Aurors and kept him appraised of his children's situation. He knew they certainly appreciated their godfather looking after them from time to time.

“She spends more time with Draco Malfoy wandering around Hogsmeade than she has at home,” Sirius gave him a sideways look.

“At least Draco has the decency to know not to take Iris from the grounds,” James interjected. He still did not know how he felt about the youngest Malfoy dating his daughter. Draco did not seem to inherit the more purist traits of his father, and at the moment, did not show an inclination that he was to become the Heir to Corruptions. Still, there was perhaps an irony for a Malfoy to be dating a Potter, but James also knew that there was to be a reckoning soon – Draco Malfoy would eventually be forced to choose which side he was really on. For now, though, James would allow his daughter to live in her ignorance and not worry about the war in such a way.

“He's working at the Ministry of Magic in London so there is that possibility-”

“Not yet,” James shook his head. “I want Iris to have somewhat of a normal life before I rip that illusion away from her.”

“She knows it's a war we fight, James. She knows that her brother is the Black Queen-”

James sighed as he nodded in agreement. “All right...I'll talk with her...”

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” James glanced at his friend's handsome face and shook his head. “You stubborn mutt.”

Sirius chuckled before sobering up. “Eddie...” he blew out a sigh. “Eddie is...well, I'm not sure. He's avoided me every time I am there. It's not that he's disappearing or anything, but he definitely and actively avoids me. I once caught him yelling at one of the local kids. Didn't quite hex the poor kid, but it was close. Did you talk with him after the Founders' Ball?”

“No,” James replied, “I thought Lily did.”

“If you get the chance, talk with Eddie. He's sixteen...in his sixth year. Pretty soon, he'll graduate and-”

“This war has to end, Sirius...” he whispered. He did not want to see his children fight, especially now with the knowledge that his eldest was on the opposite side of the war. While he was grateful that Harry vowed to save his son, to seemingly turn him from the Dark Lord's side and to theirs, it was a momentous task ahead, especially since Harry had not even fully Awakened as the Dreamer of Hopes.

“I know Prongs, I know,” Sirius replied before pushing himself from the guardrail. “Come on, patrol now, thinking later...”

James nodded. Sirius was right, he could not solve all of his problems tonight and thinking on it was only going to make him worry even more. He followed Sirius out of the Astronomy Tower.

* * *

“Long day?” Remus spoke up as Harry all but collapsed into one of the armchairs in the staff room.

“Rowena had us doing research,” he groused, rubbing his eyes. They felt scratchy, the words all but blurring in the last hour or so before he had basically given up and decided to go to the staff room early before the meeting started.

“Better than being laid up,” the werewolf sat next to him in his own squashy armchair. Harry looked at him.

“I suppose,” he said.

“Cheer up Merlin,” Remus patted him on the knee, “at least you're not stuck in bed.”

“Sorry about that...” he apologized.

“No need to apologize. I am only sorry that I was not able to greet you properly when your friends went to find you. We all felt the change in the air and the renewal of Hope,” the werewolf clasped his knee for a second and Harry suddenly felt a refreshing energy pour through him, removing the tired, achy feeling of sitting hunched over books for far too long.

“Thanks,” he replied as Lupin let go of his knee. The werewolf sat back, idly watching as members of the Order of the Ministry started to filter in. When Harry arrived, there were already a few teachers present. But it seemed like most of the Aurors who were a part of the Order were just arriving, having come from patrols or even from where they were stationed.

Harry wondered how did the ones who did not stay on the grounds get here. Was there a separate Floo network? Or did they Apparate to the perimeter of Hogwarts and walk in? Or perhaps flew in by broomstick or some other manner of arrival? He was not sure. More than one spotted him and nodded their greetings as he returned it with nods of his own. He was still not quite comfortable with the celebrity that he had in this world, but in ways was glad that many only still knew him as Merlin.

He knew somewhere down the line, he would have to reveal that Harry James Potter was supposed to be the Dreamer of Hopes instead of the Heir to Fears if everything went right. But that was a bridge he would cross later... Harry pulled himself from his thoughts as he saw his mother come in with Snape behind her. They took seats near him, both nodding greetings towards him and Remus to which Remus returned before leaning over and striking up a hushed conversation with Lily. Harry only nodded back at Snape who only gave him a cursory look before his gaze was turned elsewhere. He still felt a tug of sadness fill him at the circumstances that made his mother and Snape get together in this world. He could not claim he readily understood the reasons behind his father's motivations and all that he had sacrificed, but he was sympathetic towards it.

Following Snape's gaze, he caught sight of Marius entering, headed towards the back to take a seat followed by Marion and Sirius. They were in a pretty intense looking conversation with each other as they also moved towards the back. It was getting crowded now as another door to the staff room opened and several more people filtered in. Amelia Bones, Shacklebolt, even Frank and Augusta Longbottom entered. Amelia was still dressed in her Wizangamot attire and dark circles lined her eyes. He wondered what was she doing at the other Ministry to be kept up so late. Arthur Weasley followed the four in, looking rather harried and a bit dripping wet as he tried to cast a few drying charms on himself.

They were followed by three others he did not expect to see at an Order of the Ministry meeting, but in hindsight, realized that they had graduated Hogwarts and were technically now all adults out of school. “Cho...Bill...Fred...” he murmured. It was a bit of a shock seeing Fred, and a quick glance around told him that Ron had not yet arrived. However, there was no sign of George and Harry wondered where the other Weasley twin was.

However, that was not the only shock as the last person he expected followed the three in. “...Cedric...Diggory...” he murmured. He could not keep his eyes off of the former captain of Hufflepuff Quidditch team. Cedric's handsome face was accentuated with a haircut that lent itself a devil-may-care air about him. A long with a long scar that ran from one side of his right cheek to the bridge of his nose completed that look.

Harry realized he was staring when the other man waved hesitantly at him from across the room. He coughed and raised a feeble on in a return greeting before tearing his gaze elsewhere. He thought he heard a slight giggle of laughter from somewhere behind him. Warmth suffused him as he tried to look anywhere but at Cedric who had joined Cho, Bill and Fred next to Arthur. But he could not help but peek and see Cedric place a familiar arm around Cho and look sheepish as both Weasleys seemingly teased Cedric's interaction with him.

Harry coughed and looked away again, feeling rather embarrassed. He did not mean to be so open about his shock at seeing his once-fellow Triwizard Tournament champion, but could not help himself. He was saved by the arrival of his friends and lifted his hand in greeting to get their attention. Ron immediately headed towards him while Hermione and Ginny gravitated towards Marius Sadow.

“Blimey is that-”

“Yeah, I know...” Harry hissed, pulling Ron to sit next to him on a bench. “Don't stare...”

“Uh...but that's...F-Fred-”

“Yeah...and Cedric too,” Harry replied.

“...Wow...”

Harry glanced at Ron and towards where he was staring before pulling on his friend's arm again. “Hey!” he hissed quietly and Ron pulled himself away from staring at the four.

“What?”

“They don't know...and we've only met them once, well, just Bill and not even.” Harry replied. “They don't know it's us...”

“R-Right...right,” Ron replied, but Harry caught him shooting a covert look just as he had and rolled his eyes. However, anymore comments to be said was held back as Dumbledore came in, followed behind by James and Moody. The latter two took seats nearest to the entrance, having arrived rather late as Dumbledore waved his wand in the air and wards shimmered against the closed doors. All manner of conversation halted as the room gave the Minister their undivided attention.

“Thank you all for arriving with such short notice, and please convey to those who could not leave their posts the importance of our discussion tonight,” Dumbledore started without preamble. “Now then, following up on our last meeting, Merlin and his Knights have graciously decided to stay and help us in our war. We have consulted the Weavers and they have provided guidance for us to return them to their world. However, in order to do that they must pass on their powers as Dreamers to the new generation.”

Murmurs broke out among the gathered Order members and Dumbledore nodded. “That is correct. This will be an unprecedented event in our history. For the first time in a very long time, we will have the full powers of all the Virtues of Man at our disposal.”

It felt like a wave of the Felix Felicis potion coursing through his veins as the murmurs became louder. Heads turned to each other, talking excitedly, happiness building in people. There was hope in the room and it was a very heady feeling as Harry blinked owlishly. He could  _ feel _ the surge within him, beckoning to grasp it and take it. But he resisted, letting it wash over him, letting it flow through him like Lupin had taught him. He did nothing to reach out and take it, only letting it brush him, curl around his fingers and it flowed on its way, almost happily free.

He could not help the grin that appeared on his face, the feeling sending a pleasant tingle through him. However, his grin faltered as he felt something clench onto it, holding it captive – just as the murmurs died and the room quieted once more.

“I have also grave news to follow this,” Dumbledore started solemnly. “I am, and soon will no longer be the Dreamer of Hopes.”

“...No- Minister!”

The Headmaster held up his hands to quiet the sudden protestations. “I will no longer be Hopes, but I can assure you that my Heir has been chosen with care and will grow into his powers. I will help guide him as best as I can before and after he becomes the new Hopes.”

“Who, Minister, who?” An Auror Harry did not recognize asked.

Dumbledore gestured to Harry. “Merlin has been recognized by the Weavers and myself as his Heir.”

Harry resisted the urge to shrink back in his seat as all eyes turned towards him. Instead he only nodded. He did however, find it rather odd that Dumbledore publicly acknowledged his status when even he himself did not know until he woke up from his first trial to Awaken. Perhaps there was some previous connection his Dreamer had to Dumbledore that alerted him of this. But it still bothered Harry a little that Dumbledore had said he was 'chosen' by him to be his Heir. He supposed it couldn't be helped since morale was so shaky in light of recent events.

“But if you said Merlin and his Knights are to return-”

“We won't abandon this world, not while we're able to do something about it,” Ron suddenly spoke up, interrupting a protest from Professor Sinistra.

“Well said, Lord Godric, well said,” Dumbledore clapped his hands before holding them up again for silence. “I may not be Hopes soon enough, but I will still lead you as Minister. I can only be grateful that we have all Virtues of Man with us, ready to fight for us-”

“What about Courage, Minister? There was no Heir declared when its powers were lost. How do we know Courage has returned?”

“Because in an effort to protect an Heir, measures are taken to ensure that only those who are worthy of the powers are chosen,” James suddenly spoke up. “There is an Heir and it will be revealed soon enough.”

It seemed the former Dreamer of Courage's words were enough to satisfy those who had questions as the Auror who had asked nodded and sat back down. Dumbledore seemed satisfied with James' answer. He clasped his hands together. “With this unprecedented show of the Virtues we have been sorely lacking, I must warn all of you that the Dark Lord will not take this lightly. The events of the Founders' Ball was a test when Merlin and his Knights made their public debut. He will perceive the threat that is all six virtues and more than likely attack. We will defend against his incursions and his attempts to undermine us. But we must be able to strike back when we see the vulnerability.”

The Headmaster opened his hands up once more. “Too long have we watched as our friends, family and loved ones go to war. Too long have we been at the mercy of the Sins. We are strong now and we will take back what is ours.”

“When do we strike?” Harry was not surprised the question was from Amelia Bones. Judging by the two times he had met her, she certainly displayed a ruthless quality that spoke of potential violence.

“Patience, Amelia, patience,” Dumbledore smiled slightly to the tense laughter that emerged from a few others. There was the feeling of a righteous anger that rolled through the crowd gathered. Harry could feel the hope and need of revenge, but it was seemingly tempered instead of sharp.

He glanced at Remus and saw him with a rather peaceful expression on his face. He was the only one with such an expression. Harry realized that somehow, Remus was using his powers as Temperance to soothe some of the harsher moods in the room. To let cooler heads prevail. It was odd...

“This is certainly the first time in a long time we will have gone on the offensive and measures must be taken. Not only for the security of the school, but also for our strongholds. As such, I will be meeting with all of you individually for renewed assignments or even new ones. Some of you will be asked to make sacrifices, but if we can strike a blow at the Dark Lord, if we can strike the blow at the Black King, then it will have been worth it.”

“Just one blow, Minister?” Hermione suddenly spoke up, her normal voice replaced by the cultured tones of Rowena Ravenclaw. Harry looked at her, puzzled.

“Ah, Lady Ravenclaw,” Dumbledore's smile seemed puzzled.

“I would hope to end the war, not just for one blow...”

“That is what I meant, Lady Ravenclaw,” Dumbledore replied, “the one blow to end the war.”

“Very well then,” Hermione looked quite satisfied and Harry could not figure out why. The question and comments were simple enough, so why did he get the feeling he was missing something entirely different.

He put the thought out of his head as Lily suddenly spoke up. “Minister, are we going to take out every one of the Dark Lord's chess pieces?”

The room went instantly silent, save for a few mild coughs and shifts of seats. While the question was generic enough, it seemed everyone knew whom Lily was ultimately referring to – her son, Harry James Potter the Black Queen.

“It is true, Professor Potter, that we have executed and even killed many of the Dark Lord's previous chess pieces,” Dumbledore started quietly. “And it is true that they have killed and executed many of our own. These are merciless times and one must take care of whom we see as our enemy and whom cannot be saved-”

“Are you going to kill my son? Are you going to kill my baby Harry? Are you going to give the order to anyone in this room to kill my son?” Lily interrupted, her voice almost as shrill as Petunia's when she was very angry. However, as Harry looked at his mother, he could tell she was valiantly trying not to cry and even moved her hand away from Snape's attempts to comfort her.

“Professor...Lily,” Dumbledore started, “to show mercy to an enemy is an admirable quality. But to show mercy to these chess pieces that have plagued our lives and taken so many of those we care about, so many innocents-”

Harry did not understand why the Headmaster was dithering or delaying his answer in such a roundabout way. To him, the answer was simple enough and he had said it twice now – in full view of many of those who were gathered. “I will save him, Professor,” he cut off Dumbledore. He gave Dumbledore a puzzled look, but the Headmaster did not seem to acknowledge it as he fell silent. He could feel all eyes on him again, including his mother's.

“I will save him. I won't let him die nor will I let him be executed on anyone's orders,” he looked around at the others in the room.

“Even after everyone he's killed?” Sirius asked quietly from where he sat next to Marion, Marius, Hermione and Ginny.

“Because everyone deserves a second chance. Because killing them just like that makes us no better than them. Because we are better than them. Because we understand compassion and mercy. Because we may not forgive them for their actions, but we seek an understanding to them in order to help us move on.” He remembered pleading to Voldemort one last time before he was killed by his own spell. To have some sort of remorse for all that he had done. In the end, Voldemort made his choice.

Silences reigned in the room for a long minute after Harry's brief impassioned speech. It was broken by Lily's quiet voice. “I want my son back. I want my Harry back.”

Dumbledore cleared his throat lightly. “I believe you have your answer, Professor. As for the rest, if we can capture the Dark Lord's chess pieces, we shall. But please, value your own safety and the lives of those around you first.”

With that he lifted his wand again and the shimmer of wards disappeared with the pop. The meeting was at an end as various people started to get up and walk out. Many were in deep conversations with each other while others greeted old friends and colleagues not long seen. Harry stayed in his seat, watching as Dumbledore conferred with Amelia, Moody and the Longbottoms.

“Merlin,” Lily's voice brought him out of his thoughts as he looked up to see her approaching. Snape hung back.

“Mu-err...Lily,” Harry was mindful that the room was still filled with people.

“Thank you, for reassuring me of your promise,” she looked hopeful, “I've had too many broken over the years.” She knelt down and hugged him. “Thank you for giving me hope,” she whispered.

Harry had no answer except to return her embrace. In that moment, he knew he could not break his promise to her – not after everything.


	31. Occluding Secrets

Harry was asked to stay by Snape as everyone left the staff room. He caught the nod from Dumbledore to Snape as the Headmaster left. His friends had wondered what was going on, but Snape merely said Occlumency before they too left. However, he was puzzled, until the door was closed and James stepped out from the shadows, having stayed behind. Harry realized his father had cast a quick Disillusionment spell on himself while everyone was busy leaving, allowing him to stay hidden in plain sight.

“Snape,” James inclined his head towards the Potions master.

“Potter,” Snape drawled before pointing his wand at the doors. Once more, wordless wards were put up that sent a wave of uneasiness in the Dreamer.

Harry grimaced, but Merlin did not answer him.

“What's the matter?” James asked as Snape took a seat near one of the doors, apparently not keen on joining them, but not leaving either.

“Err...” Harry glanced at the Potions master and back at his father who gestured for him to pull up a chair in front of the large fireplace.

“Oh, Snape,” his father gestured to his once former rival. “He told me that I should be teaching you instead of him teaching you. But since the Minister's ordered him to teach you, we can't go countermanding that order. So this is our way of compromising. Snape can ward the doors from any intrusions and we can work on your Occlumency.”

“You know how to Occlude?” That was something he never learned about his father.

“In a fair sort of way,” James shrugged, “helps that I'm also an Animagus and-”

“They have simpler minds...” Harry continued.

“I was one in your world?”

“Yeah,” Harry felt a little freer now that he didn't have to maintain Merlin's identity in front of his father and Snape. He supposed in a way he was glad to have told his father who he really was. It really made it easier to talk. “You, Sirius and Pettigrew. You turned Animagi to help Professor Lupin during the time of the month he turned into a werewolf.”

There was an undignified snort from Snape who sat in near the door. He had pulled out a handful of parchments and was seemingly marking it up. However, Harry had the feeling that Snape was listening to their conversation.

“Makes sense that you recognized me in my animagi form when the Hellhounds attacked,” James shrugged. “But I didn't know that you knew about the simpler minds of animagi.”

“I didn't until Sirius, er, my world's Sirius explained to me that he was able to survive Azkaban for thirteen years because he transformed into his dog form from time to time so the Dementors weren't able to affect him.”

“Thirteen years...in Azkaban...”

“It exists here?”

“Yes, we had a lot of friends thrown in there by the Dark Lord before we finally destroyed it,” James replied. “I remember way back, maybe before I was born, not too sure, I was told there had been an attempt to break prisoners out of Azkaban, but it failed. Supposedly its where McGonagall lost her powers as Wisdom. She never told anyone.”

They fell into silence for a few seconds before his father cleared his throat. “So, Occlumency. What do you know about it?”

“It's supposed to help me close my mind to a Legilimens or anyone trying to read my thoughts?” Harry ended his statement on a question and James nodded.

“You're right, but also missing a couple of points,” his father leaned forward and gestured with his hands. “Once you start practicing, you'll be able to _feel_ when someone is trying to glean something from your thoughts. Some people naturally Occlude well, some are natural Legilimens. It's a rare gift to be a natural a certain magics, but it can be cultivated in most with practice.”

“Professor Snape, or at least my Professor Snape told me that I had to empty my mind of all thoughts and emotions in order to block any entry,” Harry grimaced.

“Really,” James stared at him before glancing behind him. “Snape, your counterpart is an idiot of the highest level. Don't tell me you think that too.”

“Shut it Potter,” was the reply.

Harry blinked, startled by the exchange before he looked dubiously at his father who only smiled lightly.

“It's true, but also not the whole truth,” James replied, “most people can't become like Snape here and empty their selves of all emotion in order to conceal their innermost thoughts. It's very effective, but the best way is to keep your emotions and let the intruder sort out what is worth concealing.”

“What?”

“Think of it like the doors inside a house, right?” His father started to explain. “Some are closed, some are open. To anyone breaking in, the closed ones are the ones they're obviously going to go for first. The open ones, they'll look at later, but they're probably going to bypass it on first glance. Its your job to figure out which ones you want to open, which ones you want close. You can deliberately close some of the doors where they really don't have anything worth stealing and leave the ones open that are quite valuable.”

He gestured with his head towards Snape. “In Snape's case, he leaves all doors open, empty, and lets whomever is peering in to go right through. He doesn't close any, doesn't deign to conceal anything.” James pointed to himself. “I like to make it like a maze. I like to know where the person is always, even in my head.”

He smiled briefly. “It's like a map, you see, with layers and layers. Similar to the school if you want to look at it, but I like to keep an eye on where that person is going so I can open and close the doors that I want that person to see.”

“Like the Marauder's Map...” Harry whispered.

The corner of his father's lips quirked up in a crooked smile. “Good to hear that it also exists in your world.”

“I used it to sneak in and out of Hogwarts,” Harry blurted out.

James laughed lightly. “Good for you,” he clapped him on the arm and Harry felt a bit of pride at his father's praise. His father leaned forward again and gestured with his hands. “We're going to work on an exercise for the next thirty minutes. I want you to imagine your house, all right? Then I want you to imagine every single door, closet, entryway and exit. Picture that until you can memorize every single detail of the place. Once you do that, pick a handful that you want open and you want close.”

“Okay.”

Harry closed his eyes and started to imagine Privet Drive, but discarded it quickly. He had bad memories associated there and he suddenly felt embarrassed enough that he did not want his father to eventually rummage around Privet Drive. He thought perhaps the Burrow would be a good place, except when he tried to imagine some of the other floors, they blurred with the others that he had. Harry frowned as discarded the Burrow. Maybe Grimmauld Place...except there was a dull ache in his heart as he tried to imagine Sirius' room.

“You all right?” His father asked.

“...Yeah...just...” Harry sighed and opened his eyes again. “I...can't pin down a good place...”

His father tilted his head in curiosity. “Bad memories?”

“Of a sort...”

“Well-”

“Then use the worse one you have and build upon it, Potter,” Snape suddenly spoke up from where he sat. Harry and James both turned in their chairs to look at him, surprised. Snape's head was still buried in the parchments, lifting one up almost lazily before lowering it and scribbling all over it. “The worse memories we have are also the starkest and some of the ones we remember the most clearly when we are afraid.”

Harry blinked as Snape finished whatever he was writing and looked at them with a very familiar baleful look before the Potions professor rolled his eyes and turned back to what he was grading. Harry looked at his father, half expecting a sarcastic remark, but James surprised him by shrugging and nodding a little.

“He's not wrong, but also know that your happiest memories are also the ones that come to the forefront when you're the most afraid. It is what drives us to protect those we love,” James replied. “Just one word of advice – don't use Hogwarts.”

“Why not?”

“Those who cast Legilimens are normally not familiar with a person's situation, but it is a very good chance they have graduated Hogwarts.”

“Oh,” Harry realized what his father meant. The passages, the stairs, even the secret tunnels, a student might have discovered them to some extent or know what were good hiding spots and what were not. He furrowed his brow again. “Can I make something up?”

“Of course,” James seemed pleased. “But that's very advance Occulumency. Start simple, Harry. Get used to it. Then expand how you wish to conceal and reveal your thoughts and memories. However, be mindful that _you_ must know what you have created in your head. You try to create a place on the fly, your mind will instinctively close all important places instead of being strategic about it.”

“Thereby defeating the purpose of Occluding the thoughts you want to Occlude...” Harry finished.

“Exactly,” James nodded once. “Close your eyes. Think of a place you know really well.”

Harry closed his eyes again, now reassured that even if Privet Drive was not a pleasant place, it was still the best place he knew. He knew every single door, every single crack. He could easily recreate his cupboard, Dudley's room, even Vernon and Petunia's room. He knew the hedges outside and where the garden hose was to water the plants. He could see the garage where the car was kept. Could almost imagine the dining room and backyard where Aunt Marge had been accidentally blown up and floated away. His room was a perfect memory, where he had kept Hedwig's cage to let her back in when she flew away. Where he kept his trunk and dresser holding some small things including a picture of his parents.

“Got it?” His father's voice was soft as to not startle him.

“...Yeah...” Harry breathed out, keeping his eyes closed.

“Now pick a room in that place,” James instructed.

Harry immediately picked his room.

“Imagine every single furniture in it, or lack there of if you want. Imagine every single thing in there and hold it in your mind,” James voice was steady and soothing. “Now there are memories associated with things in that room, are there not?”

“...Yeah...”

“Good. Tell me one object in that place.”

“Socks,” Harry immediately replied, keeping his eyes closed. He could see the pair, one of the pair hanging from the top drawer in the dresser. The other was on the ground that he had accidentally forgot to pair together.

“Are there many memories associated with that sock? Or even thoughts?”

“Yeah...”

“Pick one you think appropriate.”

“Got it.” He immediately remembered the sock he had given to Dobby to free him. It was not the same pair that he was imagining, but it was something he associated with the lone missing sock.

“Okay, now open your eyes, but keep the image of that sock and the room in your head.”

Harry opened his eyes. He saw his father staring intently at him. “I'm going to Legilimens into your mind. I am going to target what I think is the sock you've mentioned. You are going to try to figure out a way to keep that memory with the sock away from me.”

“...How-”

James smiled. “I'll leave that up to you...”

Harry stared at him, puzzled as to how he was going to do it, but before he could get another word out his father pointed his wand at him.

“ _Legilimens!_ ”

_He was in his room, legs dangling off of his bed. The laundry basket was returned to Aunt Petunia after he had finished washing and drying his clothes. But where was that stupid- Ah, there it was on the dresser-_

“ _That's mine!”_

“ _It doesn't even fit you-”_

“ _Mum!”_

_Harry stumbled back against the stairs as eight-year-old Dudley pushed him to the ground before clutching the pair of socks that had been given to him as a belated Christmas present two days ago. They had been ill-wrapped, but Harry appreciated it nonetheless. He was lucky to have been let out of the cupboard-_

_Harry couldn't very well tell Dobby outright that the sock was in the remnants of the diary. However, he tried to gesture wordlessly with his chin as Lucius Malfoy angrily stomped off. Dobby opened the book and lifted the sock up just as Malfoy called out-_

Harry suddenly found himself back in the staff room, a little dizzy. His mind felt like it had been slightly stretched. He blinked owlishly as his father lowered his wand and looked at him. “It was the House Elf, wasn't it?”

“Yeah...Dobby...”

“I will say, really clever and hilarious to have tricked Malfoy in giving his House Elf clothes, but that's for another time,” his father shook his head, but it was a proud smile that graced his features.

Harry laughed lightly in return.

“So, were you able to pay attention to how I was able to pick out the memory so fast?” James cleared his throat as he reached into his robes and pulled out a small piece of chocolate. He broke a piece off and handed it to Harry. “Also, here. Chocolate is really useful for a lot of spells that have to deal with the mind. Patronuses, contracts, even Legilimens.”

Harry accepted the piece and nibbled on it. “I don't know...all I saw was just memories-”

“Concentrate, Harry. Think back as to what had happened right after I cast the spell,” James instructed gently.

Harry pinched his lips together as he thought back. “I found myself in the room I constructed. But then I was looking for the sock and found it...”

“Exactly. You knew what object was concealing the memory. It is a good way to direct someone, but think about what you could also do once you have found the object you're focusing on.”

“Err...”

“It is in a drawer, correct?”

“Yes...” Harry trailed off before he sat forward, “oh! Maybe, have multiple pairs, realizing that I was trying to find one to complete and show the whole set-”

James nodded, his smile growing wider. “Exactly.” He pointed his wand at Harry. “Now pick another memory associated with the socks, but do exactly what you just said.”

Harry nodded.

“ _Legilimens!_ ”

- _Were back in the drawer. He found the sock. Great, now he could complete the set and opened the drawer. Multiple ones lined the area and he stared at them. Which one should he pick to wear today. He glanced outside. It was sunny, so maybe not a dark one-_

_The book Hagrid wanted them to buy for their Care of Magical Creatures class chewed one of his socks. He needed to find another one-_

_He received some ones knitted by Mrs. Weasley. It was a very interesting striped color and pattern, but he appreciated it nonetheless-_

_Hermione even packed socks. Harry was so grateful that she had the foresight to think about packing ahead when all he could think about was that he had left Ginny and the others-_

_Dudley threw his rancid socks at him and Harry grimaced. He picked it up as gingerly as possible and threw it into the wash. It was so gross-_

“ _Master gave Dobby clothes! Master has freed Dobby...” the wonderment in the House Elf's voice was something to behold-_

Harry found himself once more back in the staff room, a piece of chocolate held out before him. He took it and ate the whole piece as he sat back, rubbing his head. It felt fuzzy, but it did not feel as invasive or as bad as the last few times Snape had peered into his mind.

“Good, good. So that time, I couldn't even figure out which was the one you were guarding even if they were moving so fast because you couldn't figure out which sock you wanted. I could see you trying to figure out which one to pick as you stared out the window and maybe deciding not to wear the dark ones,” his father said as he sat back in his arm chair. “Very well done, Harry. Well done...”

Harry blushed with the praise. “Dad...you did find it-”

“Really?” his father looked surprised.

“It was the one with Mrs. Weasley-”

“Ah...” His father nodded. “Then more credit to you and to your instincts as it did not occur to me that it was something you were concealing. I happened over it and decided it was not worth looking at. That is something you must be immensely proud of as you have also deflected my interest in the memory you were trying to preserve.”

“Like all doors open?”

James snorted quietly. “Yes...as much as it pains me, perhaps you may yet find your methodologies to be similar to Snape's here than my own.”

“Oh well, I mean-”

“Harry, it is fine,” James held up a hand. “Each one of us have our own strengths and weaknesses. We're here to find the best one that will help you. There is no sense of competition or who has the better way of Occluding their mind. It is a very hard magic to learn and to master. Our main goal is to ensure that if and when the Black Queen enters your mind again or you enter his, you are prepared and you have defenses against any type of attack he may perpetrate.”

Harry nodded. His father's words seem so contrary to what Sirius and Remus had told him about his father in his world. Yet, he wondered if it was because of the war, because James Potter had more years to mature, to come to an understanding and perhaps let old rivalries die to become someone like this.

“As...the Heir to Fears...do we know what he can do?”

James shook his head. “No,” he replied, “sadly no. We are at a disadvantage because we do not know a lot about Fears nor of Hopes. It's why we want to prepare you as best as we can. Because we simply do not know.”

Harry fell silent for a few minutes before James slapped his hands onto his thighs. “All right. We'll call it a night. I want to practice Occlumency with you every night if it's possible, Harry. Snape, will that work for you?”

“For now...until the Minister deems me able to return to my duties,” Snape collected the parchments he was grading.

“If only Hestia was still there...we'd be able to get a better idea of your status...” James shook his head. Harry realized his father still did not know about Snape killing the undercover Auror. He sighed. “All right, meet back here at 9pm and we'll continue our lessons. In the mean time, Harry, I want you to practice the house method we've talked about. Picture every room, so much that you can see it even in your waking hours. Fill it with all sorts of things. Open doors, close them, associate memories with them.”

“All right.” For the first time since Harry had learned the term Occlumency and what it was, he felt more confident, more prepared and most of all empowered to actually do something to defend his own mind.

“That's my boy,” James patted Harry on his shoulder as they stood up. Snape immediately waved his wand and the wards that were on the door disappeared. The Potions master was the first out of the door and hurried away. The unsettled feeling that had been sitting in the pit of his stomach disappeared. Once again, a silent query to Merlin produced nothing.

“Thanks,” Harry blurted out as he followed his father out at a more leisurely pace.

“Snape is the better teacher for such a skill, but I'm glad that I'm teaching you,” James replied, “though I do have one question...”

“What?”

“Who is Dudley? I saw him hitting you-”

Harry grimaced and did not meet his father's gaze. “When you and Mum died...I was sent by Dumbledore to live with Mum's sister-”

“Petunia?” Shock colored James' voice. “That batty, sour-”

“Dudley was her and her husband Vernon's son,” Harry continued quickly.

“I met Vernon once. Pleasant man, I suppose, but...”

“It was all right. They gave me a roof over my head. Gave me a place to sleep, eventually my own room,” Harry shrugged. “Dudley and I...well, we never got along, but at least we only saw each other during the summers.” He hoped his father would not press, but supposed it would probably be inevitable since he had associated his current method of occluding his thoughts to be part of Privet Drive.

James rubbed his lip before sighing. “For what it's worth, I'm sorry you had to go through that...especially since Sirius is your godfather.”

“He was in-”

“Azkaban...” James shuddered. “How...”

Harry fell silent. His father did not know the full details, only that their secret keeper had betrayed them in his world. While Dumbledore knew the full details, Harry did feel a twinge of regret upon learning that this world's Peter Pettigrew had been sent far away from Hogwarts. With things so different, was there a chance he was wrong? He could not be sure, but neither could he deny that he felt glad that Pettigrew was sent away. He couldn't risk it...couldn't chance it.

And Harry realized that was another memory he would have to hide away from his father when the Legilimens lessons continued. “I have a question about the house method,” he wanted to change the subject and it seemed James did not mind as he nodded.

“Snape, my world's Snape, said I was supposed to try to force any intruder from my mind. When he Legilimens into my mind, he was able to see a lot of flashes of memories like you did. How then-”

“You're getting a little ahead of yourself, but the basics is to ensure your mind is constructed in a way that you know. This prevents any attempt of your memories to go scattering through everywhere. Currently, think of your memories as nebulous, in a cloud of sorts,” James held his hands out forming something like a circular shape. “By containing it, you know where each memory is, you know yourself where everything is. You're able to start to exert some control if someone tries to peek into your mind.”

Harry looked at him, confused. “Huh?”

“Most people think they have their memories contained, in a somewhat neat fashion. Most are wrong,” James explained again. “What we're doing right now is to help you realize the extraneous memories, the ones you could barely remember, but maybe a smell, a feeling can trigger those. Those are powerful ones. Those are the ones that could mean something to you or mean nothing at all. But those can be focus points in which your defenses can be lowered and exposing your other memories. We're trying to contain most of those in a place you are familiar with.

“You can't contain everything Harry, not even I can. But we're trying to contain majority of it so you can mount an adequate defense. So you can learn the basics and then learn how to push someone out without them ever knowing it. Or misdirect them where they find nothing amiss.”

Harry slowly nodded. “I think I'm getting it...” It made sense.

“Occlumency isn't learned in a day, a week or even a month. Truth be told, it may be a lifetime of practice if you're lucky,” his father grimaced for a second before smoothing his expression to something more neutral. “Think of Snape's situation.”

Harry did, knowing that his father would not elaborate now that they were out of the staff room and walking the halls.

“All right, you'd best be getting some sleep. The lessons will take a lot out of you at first, but as you continue, it'll be easier.”

Harry did not realize they had walked all the way up to the Room of Requirement until the door appeared before them. He pushed it open and glanced back at James who stood with his hands folded in front of him. “Thanks Dad...” he said and James returned the thanks with a small nod.

Stepping in and closing the door behind him, Harry realized his father was right. He was very exhausted after a day's whirlwind of events. Even after learning he had been asleep for roughly two weeks, he still felt tired enough that he quickly stripped out of his robes and into his pajamas before climbing into bed. He was fast asleep even before his head hit the pillow.

And Dreams claimed him.

* * *

The stark white settings resolved itself just a little differently now, as Harry found himself sitting on the stone benches. It reminded him of the backyard of Privet Drive in ways, but did not resolve itself as such. Ghostly hints floated just out of his reach, like the neighbor's fence, or even the large tree that dominated the backyard. There was perhaps the hint of a tire swing that hung off one of its large branches, a swing that Harry did not remember being there, but he did not focus much on that as he completed his look around only to come face to face with the mirror image of himself.

“Oh...”

“You...”

This world's Harry James Potter spoke up nearly at the same time as he did. Unlike last time where the Black Queen was leaning over him, he was now leaning against one of the stone benches. An unhealthy sheen graced his pale features, and Harry could see sweat dampening the strands of messy hair, flattening it to the sides of his face. His scar was a prominent, ugly red against the paleness of his skin.

“See something you like?” the Black Queen sneered.

“You look like shite.” The words were uncharacteristically sarcastic, but something about his counterpart made him instantly want to shoot foul language back at him.

To his surprise, the Black Queen chuckled, a dark sound before he closed his eyes and heaved a deep breath. “Looks like you actually have some guts, oh-alternate-universe-me. Not just a goody little two-shoes that is all about heroic justice and whatnot. None of that bullshite.”

Harry frowned. He glanced around him, but did not hear any of the telltale sounds of a distant battle like the last time he had heard Merlin fighting Morgana. However, his motion did not go unnoticed as the Black Queen's smile grew wider.

“You don't know what you did, do you?”

“Huh?” Harry turned to stare at the sickly version of himself.

The Black Queen sighed; long, loud and if Harry was being kind, perhaps with a hint of sarcasm. However, judging by the brief interaction he had with him the last time, he suspected it was rather condescending. He did not know that he could even _be_ condescending.

“I suppose I'll take a very small piece of pity on you, after all, I guess I owe you in some small way, but that phoenix tear you gave Aunt Bella, yeah...well, you got a bit of a connection in it. Enough for me to slip right into your mind when you are sleeping.”

Harry stared. “....How?”

“My guess? You've unlocked your first Trial as Hopes, haven't you?” The Black Queen stared at him before nodding. “Don't need to answer, your expression says it all.”

“Fears has the same thing?”

“Perhaps,” the answer was meant to be evasive, but to Harry it confirmed on some level that Fears and Hopes were opposite sides of the same coin. It seemed both of them underwent Trials to Awaken.

He looked around, wondering how he was going to pull himself out of this one before movement out of the corner of his eye made him glance back down at the Heir to Fears.

“Bit skittish aren't we?” his counterpart had a nasty-looking smile on his pale face as he lowered his arm.

Harry frowned, feeling defensive. It was almost exactly the same tone Malfoy had used from time to time; gathering information and knowledge to use against him some time later. He did it with the Dementors, did it with Cedric's death, and countless other times. “You're going to lecture me again to stay out of your head?” he shot back. It was lame, nor was it conducive, but Harry felt irritated that _he_ could be so callous, so like Malfoy of all people that it bothered him greatly.

“Haven't felt you for two weeks,” the Heir to Fears shrugged.

“I bet,” Harry rolled his eyes and this time the same frown appeared on the other wizard's face.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

Harry looked to open his mouth before he shut it just as quickly. He realized he was about to say something in regards to how his counterpart was under Cruciatus and then physically tortured before he realized it was only Snape that had told him that and no one else. If he revealed where he had that info, then the spy's position would be even more precarious if not already.

“Bellatrix was gathering potions, herbal ones. From the way she accepted the phoenix tear and how she looked like she was so desperate in collecting the healing potions, figured it was for you.” He shrugged, hoping that even in this dream, there was no way that his counterpart could discern the truth even if they were in his mind. “And...you look like shite.”

“So why give her the phoenix tear?” His counterpart demanded. “You just so happen to have one on you?”

“And why not?” Harry countered. He was starting to feel a little more confident, throwing the same questions he suspected the Heir to Fears would have done. Judging by the slightly flustered and defensive look this world's Harry Potter was giving him, it seemed he had judged correctly. This world's Harry was used to ferreting out information, ruthlessly intelligent and very good at discerning things not said and what was said. He was used to wielding the power of knowledge and Harry could begin to understand why Grindelwald chose him to be the Heir to Fears. Such a combination, would truly make those who were not as quick as he was to discern things would make them fear him even more.

And with that thought came another one chasing right after it. This was an interrogation. It may have been in the pretense of a dreamscape, but Harry realized that even in his weakened state, the Black Queen used every single thing he had to his advantage. The fact that they were in such a state again, even without their respective Dreamers fighting in the distance meant that instead of a warning like what had been stated the first time this happened, this was the Black Queen gathering information. Much like he had in his fifth, sixth and seventh years at Hogwarts.

Well, Harry decided, two can play at that game.

“Did you ever kill someone?” he suddenly asked.

The quiet bark of laughter that erupted from his counterpart's mouth spoke volumes of the absurdity of the question and gave some insight into his mind. “What do you think?”

Harry sat on the stone chair, looking at his counterpart. “I did too,” he stared, meeting his gaze. He tried his best to stun many of those he had fought, especially at the Battle of Hogwarts, but he knew that some had died through his means. Whether it was through falling or otherwise. He was not naïve anymore to realize his actions had consequences. “Though never with the Killing Curse.”

The Black Queen grunted and tried to push himself up with the stone chair he was leaning on, but huffed out an exhausted breath as he winced. “What are you trying to do? Play on my sympathies? Trying to make me think that you could be such a good person-”

“And yourself?” Harry jumped in. “Thinking you can be so evil that you're an Heir to Fears?”

A nasty smile full of teeth was bared to him. “I am Fears. I am the Black Queen. I am Grindelwald's assassin and his right hand.”

“And you are me, you are Harry James Potter,” Harry would not back down as he stared at his counterpart. “You are the eldest son of Lily and James Potter-”

“Who abandoned me!” The Black Queen hissed, making an aborted attempt to lunge at him, but instead, grabbed the back of the chair for support.

Harry fell silent, staring at him.

“I'm not weak.” Chipped emerald green eyes glared up at him. “Don't you dare look at me like that. I AM NOT WEAK!” The sky above them turned a sickly green before it returned to the white-grey of the area.

“No,” Harry stated, “you're not. You were protected by your mother's love. She died for us; for me. Our father died for us, for me-”

“My parents are alive!” The green eyes blazed with a sudden surge of anger and the sky turned the same sickly green again. However, it did not resolve back to the grey and instead, a rumbling sound echoed in the distance.

“Then you saw,” Harry remembered when the Dementors had attacked the train. That he had re-lived a twisted version of his worse nightmare; the night his parents had sacrificed themselves for him. All throughout it, it was like living a double scene. And it confirmed for him that in that moment of the attack, he and the Black Queen had been joined in the mind; both of them living out their worse memory. October 31st, 1981.

“Of course I saw,” his counterpart spat out. “That the wizard and witch who call themselves my parents abandoned me! Left me to die while they fled! They are nothing but cowards!”

“Are they? Are they really?” He challenged. “They stood their ground to fight Voldemort on that night. They were ready to give their lives-”

“And they should have realized their folly,” the Black Queen countered. “Misplaced faith and lack of courage?! They should have died!”

“THEY DID!” Harry suddenly found himself shouting at the Black Queen, stubborn anger riling him. “They died for me! My mother's love for me protected me and shielded me from the Killing Curse! I survived because her love was more than any ancient magic that could be conjured up!” He pushed his hair up and bared the ugly lighting bolt scar that was on his forehead. “Your parents are alive in this world and you know what I see? A selfish person who can't come to terms with what his parents did and is trying to reject parents who protected you. Who tried their best-”

“Their best wasn't good enough-”

“-who tried their best and then all they got was someone like you. The Black Queen,” Harry glared at him, “Grindelwald's chief assassin and someone who doesn't deserve their love. Who doesn't deserve the love that saved you from the Killing Curse-”

“ _Please...” the voice was of a very young eight-year-old boy who knelt down, hands gripping the phoenix-feather and holly wand in his hands. “...Please...don't...”_

_Before him, a young man, perhaps no younger than thirty or even that, was screaming. Hellhounds prowled in a circle, their jaws salivating with poisons and noxious fumes as they brayed and howled their hunger. They could sense betrayal about them and they wanted the flesh of the betrayer._

_The young boy suddenly screamed, clawing at his forehead as he could feel the oppressive presence again. It burned. It hurt... He could feel it trying to force him down, as if it could smash the living daylights out of him and squish him under his thumb. It was agony, liquid agony that all he wanted to do was to end the pain. That he did not want to feel it anymore. The tantalizing whisper that he could end it, to let_ it _take control suddenly roused him. He could not do it, he would not! He loved him! He couldn't hurt him-_

_The words were ripped out of him. His wand, lifting of its own accord as he cried. His vision blurred, the drip of salty liquid falling down his face as he screamed and banged against the bonds that held him. He couldn't! He loved him! His father, his brother, his- He couldn't- He didn't deserve the love in the eyes of the one looking at him. He couldn't control- He needed to control-_

“ _Hey kiddo...” Dark, pain-filled eyes met emerald green ones. “Don't worry... It'll be all right...Love you kiddo...”_

“ _Avada...Kedavra!”_

The flash of green light that once had been a sickly green color, sent Harry tumbling from the dreamscape. He heard the blood-curdling scream echo in the air, in his mind as he suddenly awakened with a strangled shout. He flailed about, the blankets tangling themselves as he suddenly sought an escape, anything from what he had just seen-

And landed painfully onto the ground.

Harry coughed, clutching his chest, heaving as if someone had tried to rip his heart out. His head burned as one of his hands went up to the lighting bolt scar, tracing its familiar pattern. It was wet and he looked at his fingers as he tore them away. They were stained with blood. His scar was bleeding.

He could feel an uneasy prickling sensation crawl through him before the blankets were thrown away from him, exposing him to the chilled air of the room and suddenly Ron was there, kneeling next to him.

“Harry! Harry!”

Other voices, recognizing them as Hermione and Ginny calling his name echoed loudly in his ears.

Harry blinked, his breath racing in great gasps before he suddenly felt sick. He clamped down on his mouth and scrabbled to his feet, running straight to the bathroom. Harry barely made it in time before he felt himself throw up, heaving the contents into the toilet. Sour-tasting bile made its way known and he gagged, heaving up whatever was left of what he had eaten during the day. After what seemed like ages of him retching into the toilet, he finally felt like he had no more to give and sagged against the basin.

“Hey...” A gentle hand was on his back and he blearily looked up to see Ginny kneeling next to him. Her hand was cool to the touch against his burning skin and he could feel tears prickling the corner of his eyes as he stared up at her.

“I saw...” The tears started to fall. “I saw how...Regulus died...” He rubbed his chest absently. It felt like someone had torn a hole in it. “I saw...how he killed Regulus...” But the next words he wanted to say did not come...because he knew it was perhaps the most important thing he had learned about this world's Harry James Potter.

The Black Queen had been possessed to end Regulus Black's life.

And he knew how it had been done. Because it was the same presence he had felt in his fifth year. Voldemort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be perfectly honest, I actually didn't plan for this particular secret to be revealed this early in the story, but I think I may be moving my timeline up a little for certain plot points in order to get the story really going. Also - it's been a while since we had any major developments regarding the Black Queen. :D


End file.
